The Symbolic Death of a Beloved Pet

I am not sure what is up, but I have ben doing a lot of introspection these days. Maybe it is the cooler weather and the upcoming turning inwards that I think Winter brings. Skittles, our beloved cat died last weekend in an accident while my husband and I were on a brief weekend away celebrating our Anniversary. Dear friends took the reigns and treated our kids like their own, helping them to deal with their loss. We arrived home, hugged the kids and answered a lot of questions. As I did so, I found myself answering their questions very matter of factly with very little emotion. Don't get me wrong for I was very sad, we were all very sad, for Skittles was given to our daughter Kelsey on her fourth Birthday by her grandparents and had been a constant companion of our family for sixteen years. That being said, I was very much in control of my emotions. 

Until three days later after the night we buried him in our garden. We had to wait that long until all of us could partake in the little candle lit ceremony in my vegetable garden. The morning after I woke up all teary from the get go. I had this indescribable sadness pressing down on me like a heavy coat that I had shrugged on to keep out the cold. I had a hard time keeping it together all Wednesday morning. As some of you know from my previous blog, ( where I barred my legs and divulged my "vein" secret) Wednesday morning is my date with my body combat class.  I almost felt like not going and that almost never happens. I went anyway and gritting my teeth through the tears, made it through the class. What the heck is wrong with me? I berated myself as I drove home and then jumped in the shower, only to crumble again upon hurriedly blow drying my hair. "Come on Meg, pull yourself together. I don't have time for this," I muttered to myself.  I had a meeting to get to and at this rate I would not make much of an impression with swollen eyes and probably a break down midway through. As I finished getting ready, the dream I had the night I learned about Skittles death popped into my head. 

In the dream, Skittles and his almost identical sister Snickers were playing around our kids in various rooms of our old house. The house in which most of the kids were born in and had spent the majority of their younger years growing up in. I kept awakening in between the haze of the dream and the haze of reality. Which was which?  I would ask myself, and then fall back asleep again. No Skittles was not gone, he was here, playing with all the kids when they were 2, when they were 4, when they were 7, 9, 10 and so on. For 16 years. Now those 16 years have passed.

It dawned on me then. That dream represented what Skittle's death meant to me. Not only a physical passing, but a passing of the years, a symbolic end to the end of a chapter in our lives. An end of innocence so to speak. An end to the years of play dates and heart to hearts with the moms of your kid's friends, who also happened to be your own best friends. Dinners spent  all together around the table  because everyone was home at night and tucked in safe and sound by 8:30.  Decorating like crazy with the kids for every holiday and theme days based on those holidays. Believing in Santa, the tooth fairy, leprechauns...and ... in innocence.  Our youngest, Cameron turned 12 this year and most of you would probably ask,  "Did  those things not end a long time ago, for your oldest is 22?" Yes they did for some of the kids, but there was always the younger ones to hold the torch for. "Hey guys, " I would say as their belief in Santa waned, "Can you help mom and dad out and keep the magic alive for...?"

 Those years can not be gotten back and some of us mourn them and some rejoice in them. I obviously was mourning them. I have always been a nut for making a celebration out of the things that little kids love. I was an elementary and preschool teacher for goodness sakes!  Life is a little harder in the reality lane than in the magic lane. The problems are a little bigger. Yes, the younger years are more difficult physically speaking, on parents, but the years of adolescence are what gives us our grey hair and tests our inner strength. The problems and issues that our kids face are a lot bigger and the stakes a lot higher than wether or not they finished their dinner or brushed their teeth before bed. Now I understand what my parents meant when they said, "You will understand why I said no, when you have kids of your own."

This is a transitional time for me. Our daughter in college "vibered" us (akin to texting but  internationally) while on a recent trip to Germany while attending a semester abroad in London, that she was afraid of getting kidnapped while at Octoberfest. The elicited advice from me was as foreign as the country she was in, "Only drunk girls get kidnapped." Raising children that are navigating the difficult waters of the teenage years where the boat can be capsized at any given time is trying indeed. Preadolescence is even more of a challenge at times. That "stuck in the middle world" of still wanting to sleep with your stuffed animal but that gnawing feeling that you are too old for that. As a parent, all of these stages we will pass through, mourning and celebrating them at the same time. Letting go when we all we ever wanted to do was kiss their boo boos and make it all better.

Yes, Skittles loss was a symbol of those transitions that we often, as women, don't have time to realize that we are experiencing. Why are we on edge? Why are we so sad at times? Life is full of transitions. We need to take the time to realize them and affirm them. I had one big cry upon my realization, picked myself up by the seat of my pants and acted like a big girl for the rest of the day. (Good thing I am such a good actor!)

I promise that I will get into lighter pieces on a more creative note upon my next blog. Blame it on the weather!

In transition~

Meg

I 

Life's Roadmap...on my Legs

I have many addictions:

 ~Starbucks tall carmel machiattos in the late afternoon ~ Christmas ~ reading to, and now reading with, my youngest before bed ~ books, old and new ~ music, all kinds ~ Holidays ~ Snow and a winter's fire ~ family dinners ~ long car trips ~ good old fashioned cards and letters, you know the ones sent in the mail? ~ not email ~

 ~ Dishes ~

~ Decor ~ Tea ~ Theme days ~ Entertaining ~ Gardening ~ Hiking ~ Crafting and making things~  ~Pretty paper calendars and paper in and of itself ~

~ History, and being the tour guide to any historical or architectural site (my kids hate this) ~ The country ~ theatre ~ concerts ~ old movies ~ Body Combat Class ~ 

What was that last one? Yes, you just read it correctly... Body Combat Class... on Wednesday and Saturday am's in particular with a certain shall not be named, but you know who you are, instructor. She kicks my butt and inspires me at the same time to push harder and let everything go for one hour. It was during this class one early Saturday morning that the revelation hit. 

I am wearing shorts!

AND who the heck cares!

 The thought struck me that the women behind me could probably make out what looked like I- 95 on a roadmap on the back of my left knee as well as where Rt. 1 veered off and traversed down my left calf. My right leg was in a whole different state. (Think paper road maps...not the GPS.)

 One of my non-addictions? Wearing shorts.
 That is, ever since the birth of our third child. Before that time, I had a couple of spider veins here and there, nothing major, due to my years waitressing and teaching. Well, baby #3 came along and then 4 and then 5 and well...let's just say that the dam burst and the floodgates were opened. Where the heck is she going with this, you are probably asking yourself right now?
 Well, the thought struck me right in that class, that my legs look much like a road map of my life. Pretty smooth and unmarked during my youth. Resilient to the long hours being supported by them. Then slowly, as children were added to my life, the veins began to appear. The road surface became a little bumpier, the routes a little more convoluted. With each child appeared a new vein or a new route to be taken. Until approximately ten years ago, when our youngest was around two, the map had become so intertwined and the routes were all twisted and I could not tell the end from the beginning, I stopped wearing shorts. Too embarrassed by my marred legs and probably spurred on by the innocent words of my then four year old, "Mommy it looks like someone hit you with a baseball bat on your legs." 

So my road map was hidden. At least on my legs. (The lines on my face and the grey hair is another story) Under duress or occasionally out of necessity, I would have to don a pair of shorts or a short dress and I would uncomfortably walk about, sure to be bringing up the rear for the fear of showing them off to the unfortunate souls behind me. About two years ago, I got so fed up with it all, the appearance and the discomfort, that I finally went to a vascular surgeon. "These need to be taken out," he said. "We no longer need to strip them, we can do a much simpler procedure." I succumbed with the lure of near perfect legs again and the fact that the recovery he assured me would be just one day! Come on, I could spare one day to be bedridden. It might even be nice! The enticing thought of laying in bed for a full day, maybe watching the tube all day or reading a full book... or just lying in bed all day with an excuse, spurred me on.  The time came and lets just say that the 30 or so numbing needles they injected up and down my leg were not nice and I have had five natural births. I knew that I did not go to Med school for a reason. Watching, as he pulled and cut little pieces of the vein out of my leg was about as pleasant as getting a root canal. Not to mention the watermelon size bruise that resulted in my upper thigh, the chills, and the crashing in bed after taking the prescribed pain meds. One day? my ....

Did I mention that they could only do one leg at a time? Leg #2 was scheduled for two weeks later. I was already committed and had to do it. What they don't tell you is that after you get this done, blood is blood and it has to find another way. That's when the break out veins appeared. I threw my hands up at that point and my vision of actually being cool in the summer while wearing a pair of shorts disappeared. 

Then came this past summer and my Body Combat class. It was hot as the dickens and even hotter in the gym. I always wear a pair of exercise pants because between the veins and the pale cast of my skin, I kind of look like a naked mole rat with varicosities. ( Did you ever notice that varicose veins stand out so much more on pale skin?) Well, they have this thing called self tanner and it works wonders on us ghostly folk, if applied properly. If not, it looks like you soaked yourself in orange food coloring after smearing it around your body. On this particular day, I had applied properly and had a little bit of color from the beach...or maybe it was a merging of the mass of freckles that made it look like I had a semi tan.  Either way, I felt like I did not have the naked mole rat thing going on so why not? I am only going to the gym I thought. I'll stand in the back! We live in a very old house of which only a small portion is air conditioned so I was already sweating. I pulled on this cute little tennis skirt thing that I had bought at Target months before as part of a wishful thinking weak moment and out the door I ran. (Aren't we always running?)

This brings me to the moment I had mentioned earlier on in this story. I was wearing shorts and who the heck cared! I had finally gotten to this point in my life where it seemed like such a trivial little fetish.  Chalk it up to age, chalk it up to being in the middle of a room of totally sweaty woman working their butts off, each motivated for a different reason but coming together for one common goal. To get and stay healthy. There is an energy in the air in those classes that is palpable. We are all working together not against each other, as woman can do. The story of my life is written on my legs and I have stepped out on those legs... outside of my comfort zone... and guess what???

I survived! I was reinvigorated and even wore shorts a few more times this summer. That is not to say, that I might have walked sideways under certain circumstances so as not to give them the full view, but I wore them!

For more information visit:  www.exclaimyourlife.com

Now, you are all saying I am sure, why the heck did she publicly write about her varicose veins? Well, as most of you know by now, I am co-hosting an event at the barn that is a mini retreat for woman entitled Exclaim Your Life! This is part of it! It might take time, years in fact depending on where you are, but we can make life an exclamation point. We all have issues that we are dealing with that often keep us preoccupied and keep us focused on the negative instead of the positive. Some issues are superficial, some run a whole heck of a lot deeper. Whatever they are, let's try and refocus and zone in on what makes us tick. What are we passionate about? What inspires us? How do we take care of ourselves so that we can take care of the others in our lives? I have read Lu Ann Cahn's (our guest speaker) book entitled I Dare Me, and loved it. Sure, most of us cannot go to the extent that she did to step outside of her comfort zone each and every day, but maybe every other? Maybe on a smaller scale? Join us on November 3rd to band together and work with a group of women who just might help you...wear shorts again!
Meg

Fall Barn Sale

Now that I have gotten some zzzz's under my belt and am back in action, feeling a little more like my old self (that is said lightly...the old part) I thought I would share pictures from the Barn Sale this weekend.  I think we had a little bit for everyone, including my daughter's bed! Long story, but since she is in college and part of her ceiling fell down, (little water issue) until her big brother can demo the rest of it, it had to go somewhere! Since we made this one and we just picked up some really cool doors to add to our collection, we thought we would showcase it flanked by these unbelievable French doors and shutters that we found. Are you working on a project where you need a room divider??? Could be really cool! You just might need 4 or 5 very strong men to take them home for you.

Welcome to a visit to our Fall Barn Sale!

(Those columns went to a very creative woman whom I hope sends me a picture of her finished project!)

We added these handmade benches to the sale, a set of them to be exact.

This hip Cafe sign went home to a really cute couple who was going to hang it in their kitchen.

We had and always will have our Cake Vintage products...love them!!

We picked up these trunks on one of our trips recently and they make fabulous end tables or coffee tables. These have been stripped to their natural wood.

Our French champagne crate we topped off with a custom cut piece of glass and this went home to a new family as well.

We set up a little French cafe area in the lower barn full of color.

We showed unique ways to bring Fall into your home. We still have these zinc planters available which are perfect for any time of year.

I used a brown wax to even out the tones on this old industrial barrel and it made a wonderful and rich looking side table. Cannot wait to see the pictures from the home in which this landed!

Fall table decor was of course on display

as well as this awesome metal grate bar table with bar stools. We are so sorry that we did not have more of these for we could have sent it home with quite a few shoppers. If anyone knows of a local welder that you would like to put us in touch with, we would love that. That is one hobby we do not see in our future but would love to utilize!

Of course we had items with my favorite color blue. We sometimes wish we had painted this another color for it is not everyone's cup of tea. We are confident though that the right person will come in and show this piece some love.

French chairs and mirrors were a plenty.

Of course we had to throw a little whimsy into the mix.

The latest pattern of Cake Vintage. Ordering more of these for the Holiday sale!

More trunks

and bell jar cloches in various colors. Perfect atop a baby white pumpkin!

Add some old cancelled stamps and correspondence to give it some flair.

Wouldn't this make a fabulous setting in your Dining Room?

We brought the old 1800's church doors inside and hung pictures in the window frames. Of course they sold in the first few minutes of the preview party. We added more, they sold and these are the lonely two left and we were too tired of climbing the couch to hang them, so they landed on the edge.

Quirky very tall hutch with a pale green back blended seamlessly with the green cloches.

This drafting table went home with a fabulous family and is going to be the desk in the dad's office. Please send more pictures!

Jill Harris' funky bags and jewelry were here. We love her stuff and evidently so does Anthropologie and Free People. Get them here before they become main stream!

We love ladders and sent a few home. This one is slated for a basket project redo. More on that later.

We have our beautiful original French day bed. There is a wooden platform that folds out on this baby and the top cushion moves over and there you have it.

Outside farm tables were filled with Fall goodies

anad we had a great selection of shutters and some doors for your own projects. More will be coming our way for the next sale.

We fell in love with this bar made out of an apple press that one of our new talented carpenters dropped off. You just might see it in one of our homes!

More whimsy...

and a little Halloween fun rounded out the collection.

If you missed us this time, be sure to catch us at our Holiday Sale on November 22nd-24th or by appointment. We would love to have you find something new here to bring a little personality to your home!

Meg