Getting Your Ducks in a Row

 

Today I understand better the saying: "Getting All My Ducks in a Row"

 

Ever felt like your head is full of ducks.....so many different critters all quacking for your attention while you are trying to figure out your life. Nothing makes sense, and you are fighting for survival?

 

 

Maybe it's time to let some of these thoughts out.

 

My week: a client, who is almost 80, came in with his 24 year-old girlfriend. He is very deaf, and she is a skinny-as-a-rail former meth-head mother of three. They have been together since his wife died, and he seems unconcerned that she has had 3 kids in the interim. He is so concerned about her "lisbean" friend coming to the house and getting between them that he is yelling it all over the courthouse lobby and she is shaking her head in embarrassment and maybe even a little pride.

This was the same day I counseled someone whose boyfriend had punched her numerous times in the head, but she still "loves him"; someone else who has been swindled out of many thousands and is so distressed over losing her life savings; someone else who was attacked by her doctor; and someone who was kidnapped and attacked by 3 men; and someone who sat in my office a month ago is now dead.

 

 

This has been my life for the last year, not including the heartbreaking stories of the children who have been abused by step-family members, or even their own parents. And don't get me started on the people who lie to me every day.

 

In the meantime, while I hope I am making a difference somewhere, somehow, the grant that funds my position gets dwindled down to 1/6 of what it was....hmmm...what does that mean? I do not know.

 

My brain is tumbling with a million different thoughts....Maybe I just need to make some room for all the other things that are likely to come my way today and this week, this month, this year! My ducks are not all in a row yet, but just thinking of it in that way has helped.  Quack, quack....

 

 

 

 

Closing a door and Opening a Window...Really, God? Again??

Dear God, How many times in this life do I have to re-invent myself? 

It is rather exhausting picking myself up by my bootstraps once again....hey, I am 58 and fairly energetic. You created me with enough energy for two people some days, and I know how to get things done. 

But this thing about moving me on to other jobs, callings, careers? Well, sometimes I just find it hard to do. New co-workers, new offices, new clients, changes all over the place.

Now don't get me wrong, I love change. You know me, I get bored easily which is why I like projects. A new project for me to dive into with both feet, and you know I am going to do that again. You made me a passionate caring woman, and I love that about myself. (My husband does too!)

So, Lord, give me the courage to do it all over again. Give me the wisdom to deal with new people, and to make a difference for you in the next challenge too. 

Thanks for the opportunity to see my world and my work in a whole new way. I appreciate that about you, God. You have given me some amazing opportunities. 

But Lord, do you think this could be the last change in my working career? Hmmm......that would be nice. 

Well, as long as I don't end up on the street....Amen.

Reading...ever hated that a book ended because you have come to love the characters?

I really am addicted to reading. I can no more not read than I can not breathe. If someone wanted to punish me for a crime, all they would have to do is take away every book I have on my shelves and not allow me to read anything for a month...I would be dead, extremely well punished, and probably "mad as a hatter" after those 30 days. 

I found these photos - see below (which I know are really ads). They seemed to picture how real the characters can become to me. Some of the characters in books I have loved have felt so real to me that when the book ended, a best friend had died and I cried at a happy ending for the sheer joy and pain of having known the character. 

What am I reading now...just finished I Think I Love You by Allison Pearson. Great writing, and then hearing it on audiobooks (while I drive to and from work 5 days a week) was brilliant with the Welsh, British and American accents. It is the story of a group of girls who "adored" David Cassidy, the teen idol in 1970-1974 or so. How they contrived to go to his concert in White City, outside of London, England, where a girl in the crowd was crushed to death. How they entered a contest to meet their idol...and then 30 years later find out that they actually won the contest, and how it changes their lives....again. Brilliant story. 

On to The Tin Horse by Janice Steinburg in the car....sounds promising. Waiting for me on my bedside table is the hard copy of the latest Henning Mankell mystery, A Treacherous Paradise. Mankell is famous for his Kurt Wallander series, a Swedish detective whose angst continues brilliantly through a series of 10 mysteries (police procedure, not gore). If you are into mysteries, read the Wallander series in succession. You will not be disappointed.

 

Until next time, curl up on these rainy days with a cup of tea, a warm dog at your side, and a new friend in pages that will take you away.....

Travelling North America - by motorcycle - with teenagers...yep, we did it.

Our Family Odyssey

In 1992, my husband and I decided to sell the house, put stuff in storage, and travel by motorcycle around Canada, USA and Mexico with our 14 and 16 year old teenagers. We took 3 months to prepare, all the while putting everything we might need on our trip against the dining room wall. We sorted it out, packed it on 3 motorcycles, and rode 6 hours to my parents' house where we went through everything again, and sorted out what we thought we might really need. We left behind half of what we had originally loaded that morning. 

My husband rode a BMW K100, I rode a Honda CBX550F, our son Erik rode a Yamaha Vision, and daughter Nikolette rode behind my husband most days. We packed all the things we thought we would need into certain categories: Kitchen Bag, the Clothes bags, the Tent bags, the school book bags, the Tool bag, and the Misc Bag. Each item had to go back in exactly the same spot after using it so that we always knew where everything was when we needed it. 

Similar to Herb's bike

After discussing it with our kids' schools (Niki was going into 9th grade and Erik into 11th grade), both principals seem to think it would be a great idea, asking for correspondence along the way. We enrolled them in Alberta Distance Learning, and figured out a system to mail lessons from on the road. They got the highest grades ever while working on one subject at a time, studying in campsites on picnic tables while I cooked over a small propane stove and tutored when needed. Our daughter sent weekly postcards back to her school, which unknown to her were read over the intercom every week, making her a celebrity when she came home. Our son came home and told some motorcycle celebrity that he had just ridden 60,000 kms in the last year. He was told he was crazy until it was verified by the two reliable adults with him that it was indeed true; then he was lauded as Hero for the Day, earning the respect of many other riders. 

Our general modus operandi was to travel for 200-300 miles in a day, and then find a campsite. Then usually Herb or sometimes Erik would ride back into town for supplies after the tents were set up (3 tents: one for Herb and I, and one each for the kids) if we had not already picked up supplies passing through town. While I cooked supper, the kids would do their school work and Herb would check out the bikes, or the campsite or plan our route for the next day (hardcopy road atlas, no gps, before Google Maps). Our 14 year old daughter was so proud that she could set up her tent by herself, and the kids would often compete to see who could put up their tent faster. Both kids learned how to find firewood and start a good campfire; how to use a knife in a useful way; and how read a map to plan the next day's travel. 

We had been on the road about a week, and were in northern Michigan and we set up camp at a lovely spot on the river. Erik came back from town saying, "Batten down the hatches, a storm is coming through." We ate quickly while making sure everything was as waterproof as possible. That night the thunder shook the ground under the tents, the rain came down in bucketfuls, Niki nearly floated away in her tent and we got totally drenched. I remember laying there thinking, "I sold my house for THIS!" After packing up very soggy sleeping bags and tents the next morning, we rode into town for a hot breakfast. In the little diner, the electrical company employees at the next table could not believe we had camped through what they called "the worst storm in a decade". It took a early stop with sunshine to dry out all the gear before we fell asleep that night in another campsite. 

From Sept 6, 1992 to May 20, 1993 we travelled through all ten Canadian provinces, all lower forty-eight USA states and about eight Mexican states. We crossed the continent 6 times, and rode about 60,000 kms (about 40,000 miles). We met wonderful people, rarely went on an interstate, choosing instead the "blue highways" of John Steinbeck or William Least Heat Moon. 

Not us, but a typical KOA Camping Cabin

A Mennonite Family in Mexico

Mostly we stayed in campgrounds, but sometimes we did get a KOA camping cabin, or occasionally a motel room in really bad weather. We also used a Hosting Program called "Mennonite Your Way" or we stayed with friends in all four corners of the continent for a day or two. That way we got to be in homes like a lighthouse in Michigan, a dairy farm in upstate New York state, the home of the only doctor to lepers in Louisiana, and an eco-ranch in Arizona. We stayed in a monastery one night, the first married couple ever to share a room there with the silent monks. We rented a condo for the month of November in Cocoa Beach, Florida and shared American Thanksgiving with friends living in Orlando. We spent Christmas in Chino, California where we had once lived for 6.5 years when the kids were small. For that holiday we actually treated ourselves to a nice hotel with a pool. One of our Christmas presents to each other was an hour each to ourselves in the room - we had been having a little too much "together" time. Herb and I shared our hours....

In Mexico, we found not only my extended Mennonite family who only spoke my childhood dialect, but we also met my parents there and traveled with them for two weeks. Then together we looked up a family that had been so good to my husband when he had an accident in Mexico, and they treated us like royalty, inviting us into their home and life, sharing feasts of delicious Mexican foods in rural central Mexico. We visited the home of an exchange student we knew well who took us to tour the Mexican pyramids in El Tajin. Traveling with a young Scotsman named Charlie who had bought a motorcycle when he entered the USA and was crossing the continent, gave us interesting company and new stories. He did not want to travel Mexico by himself, so he became a part of our caravan for three weeks. 

Too many stories to share in one blog, but if anyone wants to hear more of any particular part of the North American continent, we have probably been there!! 

It was a crazy year, a wonderful year and it was hard to come home. Every curve in the road brought a new adventure. When we came back to Edmonton and had bought a house and started settling in, our daughter said, "Dad, it's boring being in one place all the time." Our son said, "We made memories for a lifetime." We did.....maybe Herb and I will have to do it again....soon.