How am I preparing for Hurricane Sandy? Other than the usual, I'm making granola. And I'm printing directions for craft projects I've found on Pinterest and would like to try. Guy has the Weather Channel on, and is flipping to any storm coverage he can find--I'm trying to avoid watching and listening; preferring to look out the windows for now. I know at some point, I will long for the information flow, as there are predictions of up to 10 days without power. There's no way any batteries will last that long in this house! A dear friend has offered to be our evacuation site, if necessary, but we'll reserve that for emergency, as there are the five of us, plus two (rather big) dogs and Mom. We'll see. Next, I will probably hard boil the eggs, since at least two of us like them that way. Then I'll make soup for lunch.
The combination of dire storm warnings, full moon and the actual air pressure, I have this strong desire to curl into a ball and cry until the whole thing is over. Three days of tears would not only make me look rather lovely for the next week (puffy face, burned eyes and enlarged nose), but will also leave me with a strong desire to sleep for the next two days after that. Too much to deal with, so I'm resisting....
There's also the other Sandy I'm thinking about. Almost 20 years ago, Guy and I lost a baby, that we then named Sandy; an ambiguous name for a baby we never saw, and a baby whose very existence was questioned by the same doctor who confirmed the pregnancy. I've credited Sandy for being a good part of the reason I am the Mom that I am; for helping me through the tough (read: lonely) days of bed rest at the end of my pregnancy with Jonathan. Frequently, I find Sandy in the back of my mind, but the pain is just a faint memory. Occasionally, I wonder what Sandy would be doing now, but then I realize that our family would not be what it is today--at all. None of the combination of personalities would be what I know as our loving home. Not that I think it would be worse, or better, but different is different, and cannot ever be seen, in this case.
So, back to the granola, then eggs....followed by caramel apples, soup, and anything else that will keep me as busy as possible while the TV is on, maybe even some yoga. When (if) the power is out, at some point we will get tired of each other, I'm sure, but in the meantime, the older boys (including the extra "son" we had for the night) are still fast asleep, and the younger two are being as lazy as possible. Guy's moving the cars, and I'm wondering what the dogs will do later today (they don't like getting wet in the rain), and why there are so many cars driving past our house. And trying not to think about our niece at Hofstra and Jonathan at Ithaca. All while praying that we keep our sense of humor, if nothing else.
The laundry and porch paint-prep are done. Must remember to run the dishwasher soon.....
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Monday, October 29, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
water under the bridge
Today was one of those "I really just feel like I need to cry, but I don't even know why" kind of days. Maybe it was the little bit of frustration from work; or maybe it was hormones; or maybe it was related to the torrents of rain falling....Possibly a combination of all, along with the underlying tiredness of this weekend's trip, and the subsequent "I still miss you, and now I miss them." To be honest, it doesn't much matter, does it? When those days happen, there's the choice that has to be made: do I keep busy enough to hold it off, or do I just give in and get it out of my system? Today I chose the former, although plenty of times I've gone with the latter, only to have the same result in the end: it's gone.
Whatever it was that was getting under my skin today is gone, and I've moved forward once again. And I didn't even fritter away the time on the computer, or doing nonsense things. (That's my other "usual" thing.) I filed some papers and wrote a check that have been waiting, bagged up some old shirts we won't be wearing any more (two big garbage bags! Good riddance!), did laundry, cleared off my dresser, fixed up my resume -- some things I've been putting off, and some that I'd normally rather put off!
When I think about it, though, I realize there is an edge to today's mood that had never been there before. There once was a time when I was that girl that could walk down the street without a care in the world. Lately, I've found myself looking over my shoulder when I'm alone, and the stress of it is grating on me. Last week, I actually ran from someone in the dark. Yesterday, I spent the morning in a strange city, and in the daylight, found myself checking my surroundings -- even when, for blocks, I saw no one at all, let alone following me. Both times, a friendly word soothed and comforted me (at night, a friend; yesterday, a stranger), but it bothers me that I have the feeling at all. It's getting to me, and the worst part is, I know exactly why.
A friend of mine Pinned this the other day: "Sometimes you have to burn a few bridges to keep the crazies from following you." Precisely. And laughter and love will save the day. Always.
Whatever it was that was getting under my skin today is gone, and I've moved forward once again. And I didn't even fritter away the time on the computer, or doing nonsense things. (That's my other "usual" thing.) I filed some papers and wrote a check that have been waiting, bagged up some old shirts we won't be wearing any more (two big garbage bags! Good riddance!), did laundry, cleared off my dresser, fixed up my resume -- some things I've been putting off, and some that I'd normally rather put off!
When I think about it, though, I realize there is an edge to today's mood that had never been there before. There once was a time when I was that girl that could walk down the street without a care in the world. Lately, I've found myself looking over my shoulder when I'm alone, and the stress of it is grating on me. Last week, I actually ran from someone in the dark. Yesterday, I spent the morning in a strange city, and in the daylight, found myself checking my surroundings -- even when, for blocks, I saw no one at all, let alone following me. Both times, a friendly word soothed and comforted me (at night, a friend; yesterday, a stranger), but it bothers me that I have the feeling at all. It's getting to me, and the worst part is, I know exactly why.
A friend of mine Pinned this the other day: "Sometimes you have to burn a few bridges to keep the crazies from following you." Precisely. And laughter and love will save the day. Always.
Friday, August 17, 2012
fears and foibles
As the sky darkens ahead of the storm in the forecast, I happen to see an ad for umbrellas. This always makes me snicker, the way the computer people "know" when something is going to happen, and advertise accordingly. This particular ad, however, will not work on me. Why? Because I have some kind of irrational fear of umbrellas.
I don't know how long I've had this fear, or what brought it on, exactly, but I do distinctly remember looking out a window in Xavier Hall one rainy day in college, and thinking, "I can't go out there--look at all those umbrellas!" I don't remember if I had to go out to the street for my next class or not, but I do remember the fear, the panic, very well. The most interesting part is that I have a very, very specific reason for wanting to -- NEEDING to -- stay away from the umbrellas on the street.
Perhaps my perceptions of the people who worked in that fair city would present some background....
My grandmother, during one of my holiday breaks, asked how I liked it there--not just school, but the place, too. After all, when my siblings left for college, they stayed in the college towns afterward, so it was natural to wonder if I would do the same. (Actually, in the end, I did, but that's another story for another time.) I told her it was pretty, for a city, and a nice size, but the people were not terribly friendly, and everyone seemed in a great hurry all the time, driving, walking, biking. I told her that as far as cities go, I'd prefer New York. (Yes, even with its umbrellas!)
Fast forward to my umbrella panic. The very specific reason I took issue with the umbrellas people walking on the street were using is that I saw each and every one of those umbrellas poking me in the eye. And sooner or later, I figured, one of them would walk off with my eye attached to it, never to be found again. It's been over twenty years, and I've only recently started using an umbrella, and only when I know I will be the only one in the parking lot after work.
I know the fear is irrational for a few reasons: no one else I know is afraid of getting their eyes poked out by umbrellas; I've never known or even heard of anyone getting their eye poked out by an umbrella (but I'm certain at some point it will happen in a CSI episode!); and I've only been able to share my fear with a select number of people. I don't even think I told my college roommate, and I told her just about everything!! It's odd, too, because of how much I absolutely love rainy days! I loved playing in puddles all the way through college. Walking in the rain was something to look forward to until I stopped wearing contacts. And rain always reminds me of the really cool umbrellas my sister and I had when we were kids: they were shaped like bells and every other panel was clear, so it was like being in a rain tent when we waited for the bus. There's also the more reasonable understanding that if I were under an umbrella myself, the little pointy parts from someone else's umbrella would have to stay further away from my eyes.....
Maybe it was the fact that I was on my own for the first time, and if something happened to me, I'd have to depend on strangers to take care of me. Maybe it was the realization that I was 6 hours away from home. Maybe it was something someone said. I know it was not because of a love of horror movies -- I'd never liked them, and the scariest ones I ever watched were old King Kong movies on TV. (The way I devour CSI and Criminal Minds now, though, you'd never realize I thought movies like Cujo too gory!)
So, I politely decline when anyone offers me an umbrella, or even the opportunity to share one with them. I'd rather get wet, thank you very much, and keep both my eyeballs intact.
I don't know how long I've had this fear, or what brought it on, exactly, but I do distinctly remember looking out a window in Xavier Hall one rainy day in college, and thinking, "I can't go out there--look at all those umbrellas!" I don't remember if I had to go out to the street for my next class or not, but I do remember the fear, the panic, very well. The most interesting part is that I have a very, very specific reason for wanting to -- NEEDING to -- stay away from the umbrellas on the street.
Perhaps my perceptions of the people who worked in that fair city would present some background....
My grandmother, during one of my holiday breaks, asked how I liked it there--not just school, but the place, too. After all, when my siblings left for college, they stayed in the college towns afterward, so it was natural to wonder if I would do the same. (Actually, in the end, I did, but that's another story for another time.) I told her it was pretty, for a city, and a nice size, but the people were not terribly friendly, and everyone seemed in a great hurry all the time, driving, walking, biking. I told her that as far as cities go, I'd prefer New York. (Yes, even with its umbrellas!)
Fast forward to my umbrella panic. The very specific reason I took issue with the umbrellas people walking on the street were using is that I saw each and every one of those umbrellas poking me in the eye. And sooner or later, I figured, one of them would walk off with my eye attached to it, never to be found again. It's been over twenty years, and I've only recently started using an umbrella, and only when I know I will be the only one in the parking lot after work.
I know the fear is irrational for a few reasons: no one else I know is afraid of getting their eyes poked out by umbrellas; I've never known or even heard of anyone getting their eye poked out by an umbrella (but I'm certain at some point it will happen in a CSI episode!); and I've only been able to share my fear with a select number of people. I don't even think I told my college roommate, and I told her just about everything!! It's odd, too, because of how much I absolutely love rainy days! I loved playing in puddles all the way through college. Walking in the rain was something to look forward to until I stopped wearing contacts. And rain always reminds me of the really cool umbrellas my sister and I had when we were kids: they were shaped like bells and every other panel was clear, so it was like being in a rain tent when we waited for the bus. There's also the more reasonable understanding that if I were under an umbrella myself, the little pointy parts from someone else's umbrella would have to stay further away from my eyes.....
Maybe it was the fact that I was on my own for the first time, and if something happened to me, I'd have to depend on strangers to take care of me. Maybe it was the realization that I was 6 hours away from home. Maybe it was something someone said. I know it was not because of a love of horror movies -- I'd never liked them, and the scariest ones I ever watched were old King Kong movies on TV. (The way I devour CSI and Criminal Minds now, though, you'd never realize I thought movies like Cujo too gory!)
So, I politely decline when anyone offers me an umbrella, or even the opportunity to share one with them. I'd rather get wet, thank you very much, and keep both my eyeballs intact.
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