my chair

Moving. Renovating. Unpacking from one trip while packing for another. Fitting in "one more coffee" with various friends before we're gone.

It's not easy. Louie's really feeling the effects of it all. We found him like this when we woke up this morning.

Poor guy. I can empathize, honestly.

---

And then there's this.

I took this picture last night.

It felt symbolic.

When I was 8 years old, we moved away from the little town in which I had been born. I remember the night my parents told us.

I was sitting sideways in a big armchair,

the chair I loved the most,

where I did all my reading

and dreaming.

I wasn't sure what I thought

about this idea of "moving".

I remember saying, "I don't want to move."

"Why not, sweetie?" Mom asked.

I couldn't find the words.

"Because ... because ... I'm comfortable right here," I said, curled up in my chair, patting the cushion.

They kind of chuckled.

"Honey, we're taking the chair with us," they laughed.

I sighed.

I knew what I meant.

And I knew I hadn't communicated it.

I always remembered that moment.

In the end it was ok. It was good, in fact. Really good.

---

So I took that pic last night.

It's my chair - not the one from when I was a child, obviously - but the one I now love the most.

It's where I read,

and write,

and nap,

and text friends,

and dream.

It's now in what used to be part of our open concept main floor. The wall behind it is only a few days old. On the other side of it is now an almost-finished second bedroom, making the house easier to rent out or sell.

Because we're moving again.

Part of me doesn't want to. I'm comfortable right here, in this house, these friendships, this life ... this chair.

I know the chair's coming with us.

But still....

And then of course, right in the middle of that chair ... Ukraine.

#landilove

Heading there again in a few days.

Can't wait!

I kinda ache a lot these days, even while looking forward to the future.

I really, truly am looking forward to the future.

I'm pretty excited, honestly.

But I kinda ache leaving what's here.

It will be ok. It will be good. Really good, I'm sure.

Ukraine ... well, that will stay the same, somehow. It's part of my chair. It comes with me.

Louie's pretty happy about that.

work spaces

I took a vacation day yesterday to do school work.

That's a first.

In several years of being in school part-time

while working full-time,

I've carefully hoarded vacation days for

that glorious between-semesters Down Time.

But ... this is the final push ...

I'll be finished in August ... 

and I've gotta get it done.

So I'm spreading out a week's worth of vacation days to

Get. It. Done.

I've discovered a change in the way my brain works.

I'm not sure if it's all the time-saving technology (which makes it actually harder to avoid distractions) ... or just that I have too much on my plate these days.

I do.

There's a lot on there, honestly,

and I love all of it.

I'm sooooo looking forward to being done school,

even though I will miss learning,

and haven't ruled out continuing on.

At any rate - it's harder to stay ultra-focused lately for a significant length of time.

I know that I need an outside view.

Learned that a long time ago, and Birkman confirmed it.

I would weep in a windowless cubicle.

At work, my desk is placed squarely in front of a window.

So my solution - for the focusing thing - has become setting timers and moving work spaces. It's surprisingly effective.

I start here, in my L'viv corner, so named because when I set it up as an experiment several months ago, The Boy said it reminded him of a L'viv cafe. From it, I can stare into the backyard while typing and thinking - that's what I do.

The Boy gets a little creeped out by my vacant stare, I think.

Louie hangs out there all the time, keeping an eye on things.

As soon as the snow melts, I'm outside on the shady back deck. I have to adjust the laptop screen a little, because of the glare, and if there's a breeze, papers blow away. But I could - and do - stay out there for hours.

(On Wednesday this week, a bird pooped right on my MacBook. Still didn't go inside.)

In the winter - or super early morning - or for a change of space - I work in my favourite chair. It's by the front window. Has a perfectly-placed space for coffee on one side, and a piano stool for extra papers on the other side.

It's cozy.

But this - THIS is my latest work space, and I spent hours here yesterday.

It's opposite the L'viv corner. That's the extra leaf from the dining room table on there, and it's solid as can be. I can even set a coffee on there, and work away while slowly walking. It's remarkable how much I can focus while my legs are moving.

Is this a side-effect of being a multi-tasking society?

We struggle now with single-tasking?

Whatever.

It's working,

and I'm now trying to figure out

how I can get a (free) treadmill

into my (not-big-enough) office at work. 

Louie's a little overwhelmed by all the beeping timers and the moving to different spaces, but he never says it out loud. Just sits in his corner with a facial expression that can mean anything.

He's the Mona Lisa of stuffed sheep.

stories

My mama sent me some pictures. I have no idea where they came from. No idea who took them. No idea if they're photoshopped.

That being said ... they're still enjoyable. I thought I'd share a few with you. And maybe add a story or two. For instance ...

This is Louie's homeland. He misses all his sheep-friends sometimes. He loves his adopted home, but unnamed inhabitants (not me) keep pushing his nose in, just to see what it looks like.

Hey!!!! I have TOES!!!!

Lately we've had flies in our house. Every now and then one of the dumber ones flies right into my head, causing me to shudder in horror. There are no words for the level of THIS horror.

Remember Block Parents? When you just needed a safe place to go, and someone else's mama would look after you temporarily?

I know this is supposed to be a precious shot of a drop of rain in a flower petal. It looks to me like an eerie alien claw holding a planet - maybe OUR planet.

City Hall. The mayor has been caught messing with the finances, and now he's being swarmed by news reporters.

Different cultures have different values. When we renovated our church building, we had to "blend" with the world around us. These people do not value "blending".  They'd rather POP. And more power to 'em, I say.

Kitty play pen.

Global warming. Oh come on, it was begging to be said. You know you thought it.

You know, I get this. I really do. Passing out with fatigue while eating dinner.

Oh for crying out loud ... WHAT'S THE SECRET KNOCK??!!!!

trucker Spike

Spike got home last night from his first Trucker Road Trip.

He phoned at suppertime to say he was on his way, and Louie was pretty excited.

After all, Spike's been gone since Monday, and Louie can't text like I can.

So he grabbed a welcome-home gift and hustled out to wait on the step for his arrival.

(I don't want to be petty, but for the record - those are MY chocolates, straight from Ukraine. They aren't really Louie's to give. Still. He's been a lonely lamb this week.)

waiting for spring

when does the warm come?

*sigh*

schoolwork

Louie asked me to let you know that he's proud to announce the completion of his major paper for this semester.  It's a critical analysis of the film "Frozen River" using theoretical frameworks and scholarly research that you don't care about.

Suffice it to say, it's not a movie we would have chosen to watch for fun on a Friday night. But it was good.

And the essay is done.

Tonight we party. Or wash the dishes.

pie

We've had a lot of pie here lately. I'm not sure why. It's a phase or something.

So the other evening we went for dinner - me, Spike & our friend Kelso. Stopped at the grocery store to get pie on the way home.

And saw ... this ...

I thought it sounded gross. They thought otherwise. In fact, don't tell them I said this, but they started drooling, right there in the grocery store. There was delighted speculation that maybe there'd even be a pancake in the middle of this pastry.

Eewww. Spike made me try a bite, sure that I would change my mind. Louie tried some too.

He took one sniff and refused to even open his mouth.

Maple. Syrup. Pie.

It's just wrong.

louie & j-blue

It's March Break. It's an important time for aunts and uncles. We get to hang out with people who are normally in school.

So does Louie. He was, of course, waiting happily for J-Blue to arrive. He had the couch made up with flannel sheets for her overnight comfort. He wanted to make a good first impression, you know, having never met her before.

She was busy hanging out with other people (she's in high demand) so she arrived last night a little later than expected.

But Louie didn't mind. Once she arrived, they made friends instantly.

No gaming. No killing of zombies, like with the Punk. Just some good old-fashioned squishy quality time.

Mill wasn't happy about being locked away. It's his own fault. If his life wasn't driven by the purpose of killing all other living beings, he would be allowed to hang out with us. But it is. So he can't.

So even when I let him out this morning, he just glared at me and kept to himself.

Apparently he did a little sheep-tipping before reconciling with Spike.

But it's all good. Louie doesn't mind being tipped from time to time. He knows he's loved.

gaming with Louie

We have company today.  The Punk is on March Break, so he and Spike are (they tell me) killing zombies to keep me safe while I work on a paper.

Louie was very excited, waiting for The Punk to arrive. He was waiting at the entrance to the media room.  (Side Note: Spike came upstairs a few minutes ago to thank me ... once again ... for his media room.  How nice is that???)

Louie makes friends quickly.  He took my seat between the two boys on the couch, since I don't really have the appropriate level of rage (as you may have heard) to commit zombie-murder. You'll notice that Spike already had his zombie-killing face on.  The Punk is much more frightening.  He kills with an easy smile.

Louie had a controller too.  What, you thought he was just going to watch?  He's not that kind of sheep. He wants in on the action.

Come to think of it, we didn't give him any pizza though.

Louie's gonna be ticked.

Louie

I made a new friend while on vacation.

Normally, I don't make friends on holidays. Spike will tell you about our trip to Alaska, how it was just the two of us, but we kept crossing paths with the same people at different places.  Once, in a giant hotel with giant fireplaces and giant views of the most gorgeous mountain scenery you've ever seen, we heard a loud, "Heeeeyyyyy, buddyyyyy!!!" We both instantly knew that Spike had yet again made a new friend. He went over to say hello, and when they asked where his pretty wife was, he looked around to point at ... nothing. I was gone. I don't make friends on holidays.

But I made an exception this time. We didn't actually travel anywhere on this vacation, but since going for breakfast is one of our Most Favourite Things To Do, we headed out for french toast and sausage, and then walked into our local grocery store. A big one.

And that's where I met Louie.

Louie is the biggest, fattest, softest, most expressionless sheep you ever did see. There was a row of big, fat, soft, expressionless sheep atop the freezers in the frozen food aisle, a whole row of them gazing soberly at the world around them. I took one look and burst out laughing. We turned around, and there they were at eye level. Spike watched me happily squeeze one of them, and promptly bought his all-grown-up, career-focused, academically-adventurous wife a plush toy.

I love him. The sheep, I mean. Of course, I love Spike too, but that isn't news.

On our way out, Spike asked me what I was going to name him. I hadn't decided yet. "Right turn, Clyde," he said absently, which is his usual way of saying, "Let us turn to the right together in order to exit this store." Except he turned left and walked away as he said it. I chased after him, and said, "What the heck? You turned left! Maybe you meant to say, 'Left turn, Louie???'"

He paused.

"You should name the sheep Louie," he said.

And he was right.

You'll likely be seeing more of Louie in the weeks to come. He makes me laugh. You're gonna love him.