Against All Odds

After an extremely difficult few weeks -- the kind that make you question anything and everything -- I awoke yesterday to the sounds of birds chirping.

As I write, the window in my office is open and my dog is standing and staring out at the world that is industriously transforming from Siberian wasteland to ... well, it's not quite Hawaii, but it's certainly less stark than it was a couple days ago. I may need gloves soon, but I'm the fresh air is worth bundling up inside.

And then, yesterday, because I'm certain my outlook needed a little more help, I saw this as I was leaving my house:

At first I thought it was just some piece of junk left behind by the melted snow, but something made me do a double take. I got down on my hands and knees on the still chilly pavement and searched. Next I saw this:

I'm always amazed when I see the first of the spring bulbs battling their way through the still-frozen ground to make their appearance before a world that has very nearly given up hope that nice weather will ever come. Against all odds, they know the timing is right and they come with a message:

"Even if you lose hope, the seasons always change."

Two weeks ago, my dad had a heart attack after brushing snow off his car. Once he drove to the bagel shop, got his coffee and went home, he decided perhaps he'd better call an ambulance. The next day, the doctors announced that he would need 5 to 7 bipasses.

I didn't know you had that many things to bipass, but apparently you do.

Though I know the odds of successful surgery have come a long way, but I'm still amazed that, during the six hours my brother and I spent restlessly waiting on uncomfortable couches, they sawed my dad's sternum open, took arteries from his leg, used them to reroute arteries in his heart, closed him back up and started everything up again.

In 30 seconds, the surgeon told us he'd performed 6 bipasses, mumbled something about risk of stroke and was on his way to save more lives. Dad's recuperating in a nursing home and already trying to talk my oldest brother into sneaking him Rice Krispie Treats, diabetes be damned.

Spring comes and life goes on -- even when it doesn't seem like it will.

And, almost like they knew I needed a reminder, my bulbs made their early appearance yesterday. I hope they didn't sacrifice themselves for my mental well-being. It still seems pretty cold out there. In fact, I'd better close the window and turn the heat back up.

Adventures in Travelling, Part 2

It didn't look like a lot of snow when I got off the plane.

Using crass language, I questioned the heartiness of New Yorkers as I made my way to my friend Alex's house where I would stay for the next couple nights. In northern Michigan, we take a few inches of snow in stride and keep on going wherever we're headed, but my plane was three hours late for this?

Even as it began to hail a little later while we were walking to the bar to meet dear friends, I smiled and thought "at least it's not that cold." When Alex and I made a short trip to Kmart to pick up an air mattress, the weather was getting progressively worse and worse, but still I shook my (very wet) head and trudged on.

Having been up for the majority of two days with only a short 15 minute nap in between, it didn't take much before I was completely exhausted and it was time for Alex and I to make our way back to her house. We exited the bar and even my northern Michigan sensibilities were shocked at the amount of snow that had accumulated in just a few short hours.

Trying to keep my phone dry, I took this picture:

It's kind of hard to tell, but it's snowing.

Circumstances bring New Yorkers together in the strangest ways. This night was no different. We walked out to Houston, doubtful we'd ever be able to find a cab. The cars that were out were slipping and sliding all over the road at maximum speeds of 5 miles per hour.

As one occupied cab stopped in front of us, Alex knocked on the window to see if they'd share with us and give us a lift across town. The snow was falling so quickly, it was hard to see and even harder to walk, so we were relieved when the couple in the back agreed. I got in the front and Alex in the back and off we went, slipping and sliding west on Houston.

I chatted with the darling cab driver, who really was doing a spectacular job of steering the cab that wanted to go in every direction but forward. The farther west we got, the weirder the conversation in the back turned. Not sure of the motives of the couple who originated the fare, Alex and I were glad to jump out in her neighborhood, slipping and sliding on foot the few blocks to her house.

What was only a couple blocks seemed like miles. It was surreal and beautiful and frightening and hilarious. We laughed a lot until, finally, we were back in her warm, dry apartment.

The next day, it was like a different New York. Things were shut down, plans were canceled and the dump trucks, complete with tire chains and ginormous snow plows, were getting stuck in the street.

There was something enchanting about New York that day. It was beautiful and sort of serene in a way New York isn't often. I grabbed my camera and, since it really wasn't very cold, Alex and I wandered. Though it wasn't the day I'd planned, it was a lovely divergence from what was expected.

The rest of the weekend was a busy blur of activity with short breaks for sleeping in between. I was in town for the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators conference, which was fascinating and exhausting all in itself. In between, I tried to fit in as much time with my friends as possible, but found that try as I might, I couldn't accomplish all I'd hoped to -- a consistent theme in my life.

As pretty as the snow was that Thursday, the rest of the weekend was a constant battle against slush that only someone familiar with New York in winter can truly understand. Not only is it mid-shin deep, but it's the same color as the asphalt so you think you're stepping in an inch or so of icy, dirty, soupy melt and surprise! you're wet up to your knees.

It's somewhat spectacular how snow disappears in New York, though. While there was so much of it on Thursday morning, and seemingly nowhere to put it, slowly but surely throughout the weekend, little by little it just went away.

It was a fun adventure. I enjoy going back to New York, but it's also really nice to come home. I find I've acclimated to my slower, quieter life and I appreciate my home so much more once I've been away. Though I was only gone for five days, I found myself homesick quite often and missing my dogs and cats even more than I expected.

So the answer is, get rich so I can have two places to live: the city home and the country home. Someday ...

In the meantime, here's some pictures. And I guess I must admit, I know as well as anyone how hearty New Yorkers are. I suppose it was a lot of snow.

Adventures in Travelling, Part 1

A week later and I'm still exhausted.

I went on a trip, and it was adventurous and fun and held unexpected discoveries around every corner.

But getting back into the swing of things has been challenging, at best.

Intending to post while I was gone (again with the unrealistic expectations), I began the tale of my journey while in the midst of my journey. I was fortunate to get where I was going and back without having any of my flights canceled or dying.

I left home on Wednesday, Jan. 26 flying from Manistee Blacker Airport (what? you've never heard of it?) to Milwaukee to New York LaGuardia. Here's an excerpt of my thoughts before leaving Manistee and during my wait in Milwaukee:

Manistee Blacker Airport, Jan. 26, 5:45 a.m. EST

This plane isn't very big.

I get travel anxiety. It's tough leaving home and especially tough leaving my babies in the care of someone else.

All the animals, except the cat that lives in the bathroom, knew something was up and didn't like it one bit. As I drove away, there was a silhouette of a Big Dog in one window and that of a Little Dog in the other. Both gave me that look -- the one that said, "you're not REALLY thinking of leaving us here, are you?"

I'm flying out of the local airport (hopefully) and my flight is scheduled to leave at 6:30 a.m., a scant 5 1/2 hours after leaving work. I hadn't packed and was in full panic. At about 3:15, I decided to take a nap. I'd just about fallen asleep when the alarm went off at 4.

So now, on about 15 minutes of sleep, I'm blogging, all in an attempt to avoid looking at how small that plane is ...


Milwaukee Airport, Jan. 26, 6:45 a.m., CST


We made it to Milwaukee. I feel a little sick, not sure if it was the stress of flying over the world's 5th largest lake in a model airplane, a little bit of motion sickness or the fact that I'm working on 15 minutes of sleep.

I have to say, darling as they were, I'm glad I didn't notice that the pilots, Brett and Brian, probably had to rush to 1st hour at their middle school after landing. They did a fine job and let me take this picture after we landed. (That's Brian):

I joked before leaving that maybe if I was the only passenger they'd let me sit in the cockpit. Well, there were four of us, and we pretty much were in the cockpit. I'm not sure why I expected a 19-seat plane to be bigger than it was. All 5-feet, 4-inches of me didn't think I'd have to duck to walk down the aisle, but it was all OK.

Now, I've got about an hour left before my flight to New York. I heard a message over the PA about wifi hotspots, so I was excited figuring I could finish this and post the pictures. But it's a complete racket! They want you to pay $8 and they'll give access ALL DAY LONG! (Several expletives about $8 wifi hotspot deleted).

I think I deserve more coffee, and I'll settle in to read my book the rest of the way. Feeling considerably calmer now that I'm on my way.

Already miss my dogs, though!

I did settle in with my book and boarded the airplane as expected at about 8 a.m. CST. However, after sitting for quite some time at the gate, they had us all get off the plane and wait indefinitely in the terminal because it was apparently getting pretty snowy in New York.

It was about the time we boarded for the first time that I realized I'd lost my ID. I even called the Manistee airport to see if they'd found it anywhere, but no such luck. They did lead me in the right direction, though. The TSA security guards remembered that I'd shoved all my stuff back in my backpack after they'd searched it and recommended I look in there.

Sure enough, I'd zipped it in my toiletry case. But it wasn't before I spent about an hour wondering how in the world I was going to get home from New York without an ID.

Frustrating as the wait was, I was much calmer with my ID found. We were eventually able to fly out between storms in New York and I arrived at about 2:30 p.m. EST. I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I stood waiting for the M60 bus that would take me into Manhattan, a feeling of homecoming washing over me. 

Comfort Food

What a perfect term is "comfort food."

I feel unbelievable comforted right now. I made meatloaf for the first time ever and it turned out absolutely delicious.

No amount of adjusting on this photo could make it look good, though. Something about meatloaf, when you're not in the midst of its deliciousness, looks kinda gross. Maybe it's the fact that it's a loaf of meat ...

I love it though. This is the recipe my mom made when I was growing up, but I used ground turkey instead of ground beef for two reasons. Not only is it supposed to be better for you, it was also a whole dollar cheaper, so turkey it was. My sis also substitutes ground chicken and swears by that, too.

For anyone who likes loaves of meat, this is a great recipe and it's extremely easy to make -- even I couldn't have messed it up!

Meat Loaf

1 lb. of ground beef (or chicken or turkey)
3/4 cup of catsup
3/4 cut Quaker Oats
1 egg, slightly beaten
1/4 cup chopped onion
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Combine all ingredients. Form into little loaves and on an ungreased baking sheet and smear each one with some more catsup. Bake approximately 45 minutes or until meat is no longer pink.

I got this and a couple of my other favorite recipes from Mommy because I was getting married and thought grown-up married ladies should learn how to cook. The recipe sat untouched until yesterday when I thought about how grown-up divorced ladies should learn how to cook.

Though this can be made into one big loaf in a loaf pan, I like making it into little loaves. It's especially good when you're cooking for one, because you can freeze the leftover loaves and pull them out whenever you need to be comforted.

The hardest part of this recipe for me was the overwhelming smell of catsup. Gross. I was concerned for a few minutes that I was going to throw up into the bowl before I got everything mixed together. Catsup is really gross. But it tastes really good all cooked up in meat loaf. Luckily I didn't barf. Though there was another close call.

I used a big serving spoon to mix everything together and I used the same spoon to make the loaves on the cookie sheet. But then I had to use my hands to pat them together and make them loafy and well-formed. Again, I was trying my damnedest not to think about the catsup while trying equally hard not to think about the raw meat.

But I got them all quickly loafed, so it wasn't that bad.

Then I washed my hands.

As the loaves were cooking, it started to smell so good in the kitchen. I couldn't resist taking a peek inside the oven, and they were getting all brown and delicious and the previously offending catsup was turning into a goo of meat loafy goodness.

I ended up cooking them for about 50 minutes, concerned over the potential of partially-cooked turkey and salmonella. I was also worried at first because the loaf I was checking for doneness was crumbling, but I called Sis and she said they do that when they're hot. You've just got to let them cool a little bit.

Now I'm left wondering how much of my fear of cooking just requires buckling down and doing the things I think are gross -- like mixing a bunch of catsup with raw meat and then touching it with my hands (ugh). Today was a bit of a milestone for me because I got over it and the reward was a truly delicious dinner that reminds me of my mommy.

In fact, my meat loaf comforted me so well all I wanted was to lay down on the couch and finish watching ABC Family's "Revenge of the Bridesmaids" starring Raven-Symone. Don't judge. It's a delightful romp of a movie and it's streaming on Netflix.

But, I'm going out of town this week and lots and lots of writing must take place before I go. Made-for-TV tween rom-coms will just have to be my reward at the end of a hard day's work. Such is life.

Planning Ahead

It's 11 degrees outside.

It says on weather.com that it feels like -3 degrees. For anyone needing a visual, -3 looks something like this:

And somehow, those daunting icicles really sum up the way it feels, too. They just look so very Brrrr.

I really need to do something about the ice on my house, but instead, I'm planning gardens. And I'm justifying this use of time by referencing the copy of "New Illustrated Encyclopedia of Gardening, Volume One" -- published in 1960 -- that I found at the library book sale a couple of years ago.

It begins with a garden calendar. "What to do in January" is the first subhead, and under it reads "The Month to Plan Your Garden on Paper." So, though the list of things that I need to do is lengthy and daunting, I'm imagining new flower beds.

According to T.H. Everett, who was the assistant director (horticulture) and curator of education at The New York Botanical Garden in 1960, this is allowed.

I haven't broken out the graph paper yet, or begun to map the actual plots out. But I am obsessing about shade gardens.

Finances don't allow for a lot of extras around here, but I did splurge at Meijer's last week and bought the newest issue of Country Gardens magazine (the exciting life I live!). Inside was a garden plan for a shade garden that a woman here in Michigan planted. The article says she has 25 different varieties of Hostas, and these make up the majority of her shade garden, with some coleus, impatiens, black-eyed Susans and salvia thrown in for color.

One entire side of my yard is shade and is currently overrun by honey locust saplings. This is such a gentle and deceptive name for these monsters with their interconnecting root structure that never seems to end and their sharp little teeth waiting to tear skin from your hands and arms. Oh, and I can't forget about all the buried garbage that I unearth every time I try to do anything about the millions of little trees.

So I've decided, beginning this spring, to work section by section to turn this unusable portion of my yard into a lush shade paradise. Parts of it will have to remain jungley, because the dogs really enjoy exploring back there, but I think controlled jungle can be the theme.

I logged on to Better Homes and Gardens' website today and discovered they have a whole bunch of free garden plans. I've never explored this site, but I signed up on it for free and it provides a notebook where I can "clip" different articles and plans. Again, the amount this find thrilled me exemplifies the exciting life I lead. Magazines are not always in the budget, so it's great to have this free alternative.

I can't wait to use some of the ideas on the site to sit down with my graph paper and my colored pencils and plot out some of my own dream beds.

But, it's getting to be that time of day where I have to face reality. I have a job I have to go to, it's 11 degrees outside and it's going to be at least three more months before I can even begin gardening. Trying for the bright side of things -- that gives me plenty of time to plan ahead.

'Oh Dowy Baby'

As promised, but later than intended, here is the report on the success of my handmade Christmas gifts:

  

Meet Dowy. My niece gave an audible gasp the moment she ripped the paper open enough to see what was wrapped inside (much to my heart's delight).

Now, I'm treated to photos my sister sends of J feeding Dowy pizza party (wooden pizza, not real pizza), sleeping with Dowy hugged to her chest and reports of how she won't go to bed without "Oh Dowy Baby."

Though she took quite a bit of time, Dowy wasn't very complicated. I found the pattern on Lion Brand Yarn's website. I'm a huge fan of their patterns, and as they advertise, there are 3,719 free patterns to choose from. If you sign up on their site, you can save patterns for future use.

There were a few challenges to Dowy's construction. The first was the hair. In the pattern, I believe they use a mohair yarn, but I preferred to use something I already had. Using a craft needle, I made a loop between two stitches and then I tied the loop in a knot with the remaining yarn. I wish I was working on something right now so I could take pictures. Next time, I'll do a step-by-step.

In any case, the hair ended up being my favorite part. This is the same method I used to make the mane on both the lion and horse amigurumis I made earlier in the year. It's time consuming, but totally worth it.

Back to Dowy's hair, as it started to fill in, I knew completely this doll must be for my cutie niece. It's such a wonderful feeling to know that something you've made is well loved, isn't it?

It was also quite a challenge sewing her feet and hands inside the sleeves and leggings and it was really difficult sewing her head on. But in the process I discovered a curved craft needle and light shone down from the heavens and angels began singing. From now on, the curved needle is a must-have in my crochet cupboard. 

Gift 2:

Again, if I had begged for a reaction to this gift, it couldn't have been better than what actually happened.

My cousin's baby -- well, I guess he's really a toddler now, amazing how quickly that happens -- ripped into the wrapping paper, took one look at this monkey and immediately hugged it to his chest. I nearly wept with joy. Then, he toted it around showing it to people.

This pattern came from Caron Yarn's website. And the best part was it taught me something new.

I've had a very difficult time with changing colors. My obsessive need for perfection (seeking, seeking, seeking) was perpetually unhappy with the way it would look like a mistake to go from one color to the next as if it was in the middle of a row. This pattern, however, has you fasten off and then join the next color with a slip stitch! (Sorry, I had to succumb to the use of an ! to truly express the importance of this revelation.)

Oh joy, oh joy.

One of the best parts of making this was when, after lunch on Christmas Eve, I was sewing on the face while sitting with the grandparents of my heart, Uncle Don and Aunt Ro. I could tell they thought it was adorable, so I felt a new confidence in giving it to my cousin's baby.

Here's where confession time comes into play (I wouldn't be me if there wasn't always something to confess).

It wasn't to show off that I was completing the monkey while sitting at Uncle Don and Aunt Ro's table on Christmas Eve, a mere hours before I was supposed to give this gift away. What's it called? Oh yeah, procrastination -- I really hadn't finished it at that point.

Then came the adventure.

All I had left to do was finish the face and sew it on to the head. But I completely overlooked the fact that I would need stuffing for it. So, I called my sis to see if she could bring some to our aunt's house so I could finish it real quick before it was present-opening time. As she did make a special trip to Mommy's to get the camera I nearly cried when I realized I forgot, I can't blame her for forgetting the stuffing.

Hope was not lost, however. When we got to my aunt's house where Christmas Eve festivities were taking place, we searched her basement for stuffing, but to no avail. Finally, one of my cousins (aunt to the baby the present was for) called their mom, who knew just where her bag of stuffing was. Though I'd hoped to avoid EVERYONE in the family knowing how I'd procrastinated, I couldn't ask for a more understanding bunch of people. I really do think it's genetic.

The next day, Dowy was kind of the same. I was embroidering her face at the last minute and had just applied the last strip of tape to the haphazard wrapping when sis and her family pulled up to Mommy's.

Though it was harried there at the end, and though I'd intended to make 12 handmade gifts and only finished two, the delight on the faces of those two cuties made my entire holiday season.

Now I'm working on a classic teddy bear for a friend who will become a daddy in about a month. I've got a week and a day to finish it, but I'm pretty confident. Will report back on the progress soon. Hopefully with this one, I won't be completing the finishing touches on the way to seeing him.

Youthful Fancies for a Weary Soul

I feel about a million years old today.

I think it's a direct correlation to the million hours of work I put in yesterday.

So, I'm taking this opportunity to remind myself that I am only as old as I feel -- or act. And speaking less symbolically, I'm only 29 1/2 (officially as of Friday).

Here's a bit of a reminder that I don't feel -- or act -- like I'm a million years old all the time:

I made her on Saturday and it was great fun. She was inspired by Mommy, who built a snowlady last month and, thanks to the cold weather, I got to meet her while I was downstate for Christmas.

The last couple of weeks have been exhausting and I haven't been quite well. It seems as though everyone is sick right now, and perhaps I was fighting off a bit of the flu. But, I feel perhaps a corner has been turned. Or at least will be tomorrow when I feel a bit closer to my 29 1/2 years than the million I am today.

Perhaps it's just the nature of winter ...

But, a kindly faery reminded me today that when you feel a million, it's time to go outside and commune with nature, so I'm going to try to find some time today to do that.

In the meantime, I dreamed of spring last night. The trees were exploding with blossoms and everywhere around me the Earth was waking up, giving a great big yawn and stretching its sleep-wearied limbs out toward the sun.

Today it's gray and flurries of snow are falling from the sky. I don't mind winter, especially with my snowlady to keep me company. If only I didn't have to work today, I'd build her a companion and together they could watch over me to make sure I don't fall into the bad habit of old age before my time.

But, today I'm a million and I DO have to go to work. And besides, the Tigers report to spring training next month, so spring's really not THAT far off. And for every day that I'm a million years old, there's bound to be two when I'm 9. It's just my nature.