Lair of the Lost Girl

So. Just so y'all know, things are starting to go better.

Percival started to turn around as soon as we got him onto some pain medication (and let this be a lesson to me - and to all pet owners - pain in animals doesn't manifest like it does in people; when in doubt add pain meds). He's still not entirely back to himself, and when I tried to taper off the pain meds his appetite started dropping again, but it's still better than I feared it would be.

The kittens are happily settling into the household. Harry (the orange one) is a lovable nerd who adores people and human contact; he purrs as soon as anyone touches him, and loves to be picked up and cuddled. Harlequin (the black/smoky one) is our little Manic Pixie Dream Cat - she's too pretty by half, can't hold still, and drags Our Hero along on ill-advised but hilarious adventures. I am glad beyond words that we adopted them.

And me? I'm hanging in there, and the days are getting better. In particular, now that the weather is warm I'm starting to come back to life. We planted our veggie garden today, I've been going for walks almost every sunny afternoon, and the longer days mean that I feel like there's just more time to Do Stuff in general. Tango classes, jogging, theater (in the past two weeks I've seen both Book of Mormon and Chess), dinner with friends...

Life is busy. It's not perfect - Percy's still sick, and likely terminal; my shoulder/neck pain is still bad enough (after six-plus months of rest, PT, and acupuncture) that I need to talk to my doctor about more invasive treatment options; I still have my own demons that I fight. But it's closer to good than it has been in a long time.

Every once in a while I look at myself, metaphorically speaking, and wonder how someone who is supposedly so smart can be such a bimbo.

On the other hand, I have to admit that at least my occasional forays into bimbosity also provide opportunities to discover excellence in my fellow human beings.

So today I had a bunch of errands to run. And, because I am a girly girl and have become addicted to having pretty nails, one of these "errands" was getting a manicure. And a pedicure, because hey, if you're going to have one, you might as well have both. So anyway, I finished my CE and registered for a professional conference and started the dishwasher and renewed my gym membership and headed out to the salon, figuring on spending an hour or so there before picking up a friend and running out to the local Asian grocery to stock up on bento staples and so on and so forth.

Unfortunately, after an hour or so of pampering and painting, I stepped out into the parking lot to discover that my car keys were, in fact, not in my purse, but instead in the ignition of my car. And, because I am conscientious, all of my windows were rolled up and doors locked. And umbran was upwards of an hour away, in a meeting with his cell phone turned off.

And our AAA membership had expired. And the police couldn't help. And the tow truck company would only come out for a minimum of $60, cash up front. Which I didn't have, because I had just paid to turn my toenails sparkly burgundy. And the cab company's phone line was faulty and kept disconnecting me, and the guy there didn't really speak English.

Luckily, at least it was a glorious, warm, sunny day and I had plenty of reading material. So, after my second or third call to the cab company, I thought I had *maybe* explained to them where I was and what I wanted, and I sat down on the brick wall in the parking lot to read.

Maybe 15 minutes later, a guy pulled into the parking lot and greeted me with a grin and bantering hearty approval of my apparent slacking off and enjoying the sunshine. Starved for conversation and company, I returned the grin and griped to him about my situation. He sympathized, offered to buy me lunch (the nail salon shared the strip mall with, among other things, a pizza parlor), and asked if I needed a ride anywhere.

I told him that I was trying to get back to MyHomeTown, but that I was hopefully all set. He said his next meeting was in NeighboringTown, and asked again if I needed a ride. I thanked him, and said I should be fine, but he insisted that, if I was still there when his meeting was over, he'd gladly give me a lift.

Five minutes later he came back to his car, griping that the person he was supposed to meet was running at least 20-30 minutes late, and that he was just going straight on ahead to NeighboringTown. And there was still no sign of the taxi. He asked again if I needed a ride. I said yes, and called the cab company, who were rather eager to cancel my request.

Ten minutes later he dropped me off at a safe public location a short walk from my house, after a pleasant drive and conversation about local restaurants, little sisters, the frustration of late clients, and our mutual love of the Greater Boston Area. I walked home, hopped into umbran's car (the keys for which I had on a separate ring), and drove to pick up metaphysick and, blessedly, his spare set of house keys, so I could get inside and change for my physical therapy appointment.

So. A thousand thank-yous to Dave The Good Samaritan for salvaging the day from my own airheadedness, to metaphysick for letting me into my own home and for walking with me to PT, and to my beloved umbran for picking me up from my appointment, driving me back to my car with his spare keys, and for not calling me a bimbo in the process....

Among the many things I wish I had learned earlier in life is the fact that little, local mini-vacations can be as restful and fun as big, faraway, destination vacations - even more so, sometimes.

We never went on vacations much when I was growing up, of any sort, so I always had the idea in my head that vacations needed to be like they were portrayed in comedy media - big, convoluted, effortful affairs going somewhere far away for at least a week. It's only been within the past couple of years that I've realized that taking two or three days to run away somewhere local, but just far enough to be emphatically Not Home, can be a vacation too.

This past weekend umbran and I went to Vermont for a couple of days. Not far; it was maybe a 3 hour drive to where we were staying. And it wasn't an epic adventure. But it was far and away one of the best vacations I've ever had.

The B&B we were staying at was glorious - bright and homey and comfortable, with a yard filled with gardens and flowers and hammocks and swings and more beautiful kinds of birds than I could count, and fresh fruit and homemade baked goods in the morning, and a hot tub on the screened-in porch for nighttime. I'll admit, at least one afternoon's worth of plans were forgotten as I curled up in the hammock and alternated between reading and watching the birds.

We didn't just lie around all weekend, though. We went trail riding, and explored little stores, and went to the most charming farmer's market I've ever seen, and found a fiber arts collective where I was given an impromptu hour-long lesson on how to use a spinning wheel, and found delicious food, and went to the Shelburne Museum, where we realized that one day really isn't anywhere near enough to explore the delightful superabundance of awesome wackiness that is that place.

And yeah, we soaked up a lot of sunshine, read a lot, and spent a goodly amount of time doing precious little. And it was wonderful. And we're back now, but somehow, after the weekend we had, the rest of the world is a lot less intimidating....

The sun is shining, and it is gloriously warm outside.

I have a vase of red and white roses on my mantelpiece.

I worked out this morning, and now I am comfy and relaxed and wearing my favorite shirt.

I have a friend coming over this afternoon, and there will be good food and good tv and good conversation. Then I am going to dress up in a pretty dress and go to tango class, and maybe go out for ice cream afterwards.

So You Think You Can Dance starts tonight.

Right now, all I have to do is decide whether to spend the next half-hour working on the Afghan That Will Never End, or curled up on the comfy chair in the library reading Volume 2 of the Walking Dead graphic novel.

How did my life get this good?

So I'm facing a pair of conflicting goals in my life right now... and at the same time, I've somehow managed to balance them this weekend. I'm not quite sure how, but I'm not going to complain.

After spending over a week in January too sick to function, and most of December decidedly unhealthy, I finally decided to accept that maybe running at redline wasn't quite the wisest way to spend my life. (Yes, I know I've been confronted with this lesson before. In every life, there are some lessons we learn quickly and some that we need to be bludgeoned with repeatedly before they sink into our somewhat resistant skulls. This is one of the latter, for me.) So I've decided to do my best to kind of slow the heck down, and maybe not take on SO many projects at once.

At the same time, I also realized that I spent way too much of 2011 in a fairly small social bubble, interacting with about 3 or 4 people almost exclusively, and not finding enough time to spend with many other people whom I wanted to share my life with. And so I've also decided that, for 2012, one of my goals is to find time to spend with people I don't see often enough.

The challenge here is not to go so crazy filling up my schedule with social events that I wear myself out, fail to find time to take care of myself, my house, and my pets, or forget to spend time with my husband. Given my tendency to take everything to eleven, this is a fairly serious challenge.

I managed to juggle it well this weekend, though. Dinner and brunch with good friends I haven't seen near enough of, and afternoon socializing with others, still left me enough time at home to cuddle my husband and my cats and finish the truly awesome book I was reading - I had forgotten how good it felt to be able to just curl up with a book that was so enthralling that I couldn't pull myself away, and actually have the time to read for an hour or two.

And now I'm making dinner, and planning meals for the week, yet more things I hadn't found as much time to do as I would have liked to. I don't know how long I'll be able to keep up this level of calm; I'm sure something will send me into hyperdrive before too long. But for now, I'm going to enjoy the heck out of it....

Okay, then.

Stuffing is assembled, and ready to go in the oven when it's time. Pumpkin gingerbread and cranberry-apple pies are done and cooling. Gravy base is finished, just waiting for the turkey drippings to be made into a roux and simmered in. Olive tapenade and lemon-mint-pepper ricotta are done and waiting to go on bruschetta.

Bread has been cubed for bread pudding; that'll go in the oven just when we sit down to eat. Green beans have been snapped. Hazelnuts are toasted and being chopped as I type this. Turkey is brining, and will be coming out to go into the oven in about 20 minutes - umbran is on top of that, bless his heart.

And.... that's it. It's too early to peel potatoes or start the custard for the bread pudding; succotash is going to be a last-minute toss in the skillet. There's going to be the standard last-minute rush around the kitchen about a half an hour before we eat, as I saute green beans and mash potatoes and whisk gravy and try to get all the last-minute bits timed just so, but for the moment, I think I'm caught up.

In three hours my house will be full of friends and family and loved ones. I love this holiday. Right now, though, I think I'm going to sit down for a few, catch my breath, and enjoy the peace....

This has been a crazy, miserable hell of a month. It's been a crazy, miserable hell of a year. I'm pretty darn close to running out of energy, cope, and sanity, and it's starting to show even when I'm doing my best to cover it up.

On the other hand, I have a handful of very good people in my life who will do their best, no matter what, to try to keep my various pieces together and remind me that there is more to life than the misery of the moment. And they keep me surrounded with love, and ply me with hugs and chocolate and dancing and flowers and gentle reminders that maybe I shouldn't be the last priority in my own life.

I am going to listen to these people, for the moment, and I am going away for a couple of days. I'm taking my phone, but odds are it'll be left in the hotel room or buried in the bottom of my purse, and I am fleeing as much of the world as possible. I'll be back Monday; try not to burn down the internet while I'm gone.

(Though, if the apocalypse hits, don't tell me. I'll just wait it out on my own private island, and be happy there.)

Thank you for the thoughts and well-wishes and patience, and with any luck I'll be more prepared to face the world when I'm back.....

Vacationing isn't something I've had a lot of experience with, and it's something I'm still learning how to do. We never really went on vacations when I was a kid, so I always sort of assumed they were a Big Deal - something that had to take a lot of time, and involved going far away, for several days. But when umbran and I wound up having to cancel our plans to go to Latvia this summer, I didn't want to give up completely on taking any sort of break. We wound up planning for a long weekend away in Mystic, CT; I went into it fairly certain that it would be... I don't know. No big deal, not that much of a change from regular life, kinda fun but not much of an actual vacation. And instead it was almost perfect.

We left after work Thursday; one of the nice things about running away to somewhere within a few hours' drive of home was that we could get an extra full day away while still only taking one day off work. Even working a full day and stopping on the road for dinner, we managed to check in to the B&B by 9:30pm.

The B&B, incidentally, was... not bad. I'm learning that I love B&B's in general much more than hotels - while I don't spend huge amounts of time in my room when I'm away, there's something about having green spaces outside and a room that looks like a bedroom, and pretty furniture, that just makes the whole experience feel so much more luxurious than staying in a little box. And this place was gorgeous, with sprawling lawns and hammocks and gardens and the obligatory cat that seems to come standard when you take over ownership of a New England Bed & Breakfast, and a jacuzzi in the room itself. The bed was a little less than comfy, and the food was mediocre, but in general it was incredibly, amazingly worth the extra money, if only for the chance to go sprawl out on the lawn with a book, or do sun salutations, instead of looking out at a parking lot.

We didn't actually plan our weekend, beyond 'go away.' There were a handful of things we had on our list of 'that might be cool to do,' but nothing mandatory. And that wound up making things even better. We stopped by the Mystic Aquarium, just in time to see the sea lion show and watch the beluga whales (my personal favorite whales, and second in my heart only to manatees) show off. We wandered around the Ye Olde Mysticke Village, bought some cute touristy stuff as well as a Warren Zevon CD I had never even heard of before, and went to dinner at a nice restaurant, conveniently also knocking F off the Restaurant Project - that'll be a separate post.

We went to the Pequot Museum Saturday morning, on a whim, and realized that we got there just in time to tag along for a 3-mile nature and history hike through the remnants of a 19th century settlement, led by a researcher who I am totally kidnapping in the event that the apocalypse happens. Said hike was unfortunately interrupted by yellowjackets; luckily, Super Researcher also turned out to be an ethnobotanist, and within a few minutes had picked a handful of medicinal plants and handed them out to the sting victims (of which, blessedly, my allergic self was not one).

Then it turned out we were in town on the same weekend as the Midsummer Festival in Old Lyme. The festival itself was a bit low-key, but it led us on another (less nature-infested) walk, and ended with some of the best ice cream I've ever had. From there, we just puttered around for a while; I can't put my finger on any one particular event, but I know we had a good evening of exploring and relaxing, as well as encountering ridiculous amounts of wildlife - deer, snakes, chipmunks, and nearly half a dozen foxes over the course of the weekend.

Today we went back to Ye Olde Village for some final shopping, and took the time to explore the Art Show outside. umbran splurged at a Native American store, and I got a beautiful pair of art glass earrings, as well as a donation from the glass artist of a handmade pendant and a promise of more pieces to come, for the raffle at Arisia - proving yet again to me that it is OK to be shameless in the name of charity. The rest of the day was spent wandering slowly in the direction of home, with stops at a local goat farm for exploring, animal petting, and fresh cheese, and in Old Sturbridge Village, because it was there and fun.

And now we're home, and eventually I will have to unpack, and start making a grocery list for the week, and planning and thinking about work, but I think for now I'm going to count the next hour or two as the remnants of my vacation. And I will do my best to remember, in the future, that even a little escape like this can make a big difference.

It's a chilly, bleak day, even though it's technically spring. This morning, getting ready to go to work, there was a dusting of snow on my car and over the ground where the tulips are starting to emerge. There are still flurries drifting through the air right now, though not enough to accumulate, and the sky is a dead, gray color.

I'm sitting here at work, fingers cold but the rest of me tolerating the temperature fairly well, wondering if it's close enough to noon to justify getting my sandwich from the fridge and eating lunch. I cracked my first Diet Coke half an hour ago; too thirsty to wait, and the water in the office cooler here is somehow always room-temperature. Nasty, especially when mixed with Crystal Light.

I had a few appointments today, which is fairly normal for this clinic, and one of them was a client that had specifically requested to see me. That was a nice boost to the ego, especially because the client and pet in question are both enthusiastic, friendly, and fun. And now I've got a lull for a couple of hours, which has been filled so far by introducing the office manager (a fellow hobby-cook) to the addictive delight that is TasteSpotting. So far she's already printed out half a dozen recipes, and concocted almost as many plans for dinner endeavors.

In between being called over to ooh at recipes for Chocolate Stout and Salted Caramel Whoopie Pies, I've got a pretty amazing book to keep me company. It's a collection of superhero short stories that I got for umbran for Christmas and am finally getting around to reading myself, and I'm continually being overwhelmed by just how amazing each story is. It's wonderful to finally start seeing superhero literature emerge as a genre.

It's past noon now, so I can eat my sandwich and tackle the next story. I've got one more appointment this afternoon, and then it'll be home to the next part of the day, to figure out whatever up-in-the-air plans have been awaiting word from friends juggling lives of their own.....

Sometimes I get so caught up in my need to be Busy Doing Stuff All The Time that I forget how useful and pleasant it can be for my husband and I just to have a day to ourselves. Not a Date Night or planned activity time; just... a day.

A day to sleep in, and wake up when we feel like it instead of when our plans dictate, and maybe stay in bed after we're awake without feeling guilty. And to do whatever we feel like after that, without having to squeeze things in around an agenda.

We did have a couple of things on our to-do list, but none of them were time-critical, and, to be completely honest, if we hadn't gotten them done the world wouldn't have ended. I did have an appointment with a massage therapist (pain, stress, and an inability to raise my arms over my head finally overrode my hangups, issues, severe aversion to seeking any medical attention, and deep-seated suspicion that hiring a masseuse is disturbingly similar to hiring a prostitute), but that was far enough into the day that it didn't get in the way of a slow, leisurely morning together.

After that, we headed out to get our Thanksgiving shopping done, which was far more fun than it had any right to be. No matter how old I am, I think I'll always find grocery shopping to be more of an amusing game than a chore - it just feels far too much like pretending to be a grownup, rather than like actually being a grownup. There were show tunes and a capella on the radio, and now there is a turkey thawing in our fridge, several bags of chocolate chips and nuts in our pantry, and and a stack of recipes ready to use in the dining room.

Tidying up went much faster than I had anticipated; I adore our little house and am both surprised and glad at how quickly we can have it company-ready if need be. And then the magic of timing and the Internets let me reward myself for my dedication to both my chores and my health with a beautiful new necklace from chimera_fancies, and the television rewarded me with "When Harry Met Sally" (which I had just been thinking I wanted to watch, and just happened to be starting when I turned on the tv to see if anything fun was on).

So now there are pork chops in the oven, and succotash on the stove, and a movie I love waiting to be watched, and the man I love waiting to share this all with me. And while I can't quite lift my arms over my head without pain and strain quite yet, it's a little easier. And soon there will be a house I love full of people I love and care about.

I think I might be maybe getting the hang of this "good life" thing....