Still Here

I'm still here.

Last Wednesday's sunshine and warmish weather beckoned me into the out of doors after work. It was Earth Day. The Webster Arboretum isn't far from home, but the trees and flowers were not in full bloom, so I drove on. The lake, choppy and rough, provided no beach on which to search pebbles and bits of glass. I drove farther down Lake Road. The Webster Park Campground is not yet open for the season, but the road to the woods called my name and I thought I might take a step or two down one of the muddy, sunlit trails... 

Fresh, bright green leaves tinged the trees. Miniature carpets of moss made patchwork carpets on fallen logs. Birds twittered. Squirrels chirped. I stepped over sticks, stones and puddles, capturing photos along the way.

The hidden path, skirting the gulley's rim, was more difficult to discern last week, but having walked this way on autumn days, its invisibility only served to draw me in. Tension melted from my body as the fresh, cool smell of woodsy moss and pine filled each breath. 

Early spring. Too soon for the buzz and bite of deer flies and mosquitoes. Each blade of grass and tree branch born anew. I hadn't intended to walk the hidden trail but was grateful for each step and every sign of growth.

Just before the crest of the hill, a fairy house appeared. The door stood somewhat ajar. I smiled to myself and imagined fairy children hiding in the shadows, shushed by a wary, fairy mother. Not wanting to terrify the tiny creatures, I snapped a picture and hurried on, almost certain I'd heard them breathe a sigh of relief.

Behind the park maintenance buildings, I broke from the path and made my way toward the park road where my sisters and I, in days of childhood, ran ahead of our parents on our way back to the campsite. 

Some of my favorite memories are the afternoon walks we took with Mom and Dad when we camped at the little park back in the 1970s. The woods have changed since then. Many old pine trees, planted in long straight rows by boy scouts many years before I was born, lay fallen on the forest floor. The ground is no longer an open carpet of pine needles, and the tall pines that once created a shadowy, forest canopy are few. Smaller trees have taken their place, and the underbrush has filled in much of the open spaces where we ran and played, but it's still the woods and it still whispers my name.

Signs of Spring

Spring is on it's way and it's already feeling warmer and more hopeful. I took a walk after work yesterday afternoon. Down to the woods at the Dead End, on around the biggest block, and back home again. two thirds of the way around my feet and legs were tired and achy. Once I was back in the house, I climbed up on my bed for a rest. "Hey Siri," i said to my phone on the nightstand, "Set a timer for 45 minutes." And then I went to sleep. Forty-five minutes later I pushed the rest button and slept for another 45. LOL! 

Work is going good aside from not getting full time hours. My bills are paid but saving money is tough when one is living paycheck to paycheck. They keep saying that hours will pick up when business picks up, which was fine in January but is getting old now. I'm hoping I won't have to look for alternative employment.

Life is Good

Peace. Peace within.

Nine years ago my heart and soul were in anguish. Seven years ago my heart was broken to pieces. Five years ago I couldn't imagine what healing might look like or how it could ever come true. I had been totally devastated... but not completely destroyed. I held onto the belief that I could be happy again, that my heart would heal, that life would be good. And it is.

There have been a myriad of battles along the way, lots of tears and heart-wrenching realizations. I left a much loved part of myself behind in the little gray house on the country road through apple orchards. I came home to my father's house, the place where my life began, where I was safe and loved, and began the journey to healing. Five years ago I wrote, "I haven't found myself yet, but I'm still looking." Today I can say I finally feel comfortable in my own skin. My year started out tough, but I've come so far the past ten years and I'd never have gotten here without all the adversity.

To be honest, I thought I was happy in my old life and for the most part I was. I'd never wanted to be anything other than a wife and mother. My positions weren't quite what I'd imagined as a young girl, there were lots of tears, but I'd never be the person I am today without those hard lessons. It's because of them that I have been able to sit down and sort through what I believe and why, to set some beliefs aside, and to tuck others deeper into my heart and soul. Inside I am still very much the same girl I have always been with a generous helping of confidence that I was previously missing. 

Honestly, life is good. It is very good.

(Pictures from my Indian Summer walk in the woods on Thursday, which also happened to be Halloween.)

Down to the Lake and a Woods Walk

Life is good. I'm adjusting to my new job and learning lots of new things. There's a reason I never order specialty coffee drinks, and that is because I never knew the difference between one or the other. Ha ha! I know now. I'm slowly adjusting to my new schedule of showering at night, going to bed early, and waking up well before daylight. The best part is getting home just a little after 1 pm with plenty of daylight left for rest and relaxation or a walk.

Yesterday I took myself down to the lake. The waves were slapping the break wall and the fishermen were enjoying both the sandbar and the areas surrounding the creek. I walked to the beginning of the pier and no farther. It was both cold and windy and so I headed back to the shelter of my car.

Not wanting to go home, I decided to take the road back to the Webster Park Campground where I have walked in previous years. Two women met to walk their dogs. I followed them into the woods but lost them as I stopped to soak in the sweetness of the trees. The scent of pine, the soft forest floor under my feet, bits of autumn color... 

A lifetime ago my sisters and I walked these woods with our parents. It was tradition, when camping 6 miles from our childhood home, to take an after lunch walk through the trees with our parents. Back in the 1970s the trees were young, strong, and healthy, the forest floor scattered with pine cones and needles, the undergrowth sparse and the space between the ground and lower pine branches open below and protected above. We often walked through the woods as far as the Mohawk Lodge. These are beautiful memories and the main reason I go back to walk through these woods again and again.

Today I took a nap after work and then a walk down through the old dead end by our woods, through the adjoining neighborhood, and back home down the main road. It's been a good day and my heart is happy.

Too Much and Not Enough Too

Two weeks. It's been two weeks since I last published a blog. Two are in forever draft form (never to be published), but they don't count. And now, because it's late and I'm thoroughly exhausted from chasing children during the day and not sleeping at night, I have little to share and yet much on my mind. Late fall problems...

I've not taken any wonderful, autumn woods walks this year and I am a little sad about that. However, I do have a great stockpile of woods walks from years past and if I close my eyes and hold the picture in my mind, it's almost like being there. I soaked those memories in deep; the sights, the sounds, the smells. All of it. I am so grateful for those years. If I ever slide into dementia (which is a terrifying thought), I'm sure I'll be taking some woods walks in my memories then too. (Which really doesn't sound half bad. LOL!)

It's been an emotional week with a cherished family member being diagnosed with a terminal illness. (I'm keeping the identity private out of respect.) The time and miles between here and there make visiting impossible. There is nothing I can do except to pray. For peace. For pain free days. For God's grace. For those who can to be there. Life, it seems, is all about learning to let go...

Tomorrow is a day with friends. We're going to a craft sale and then out to lunch. This is good. This is what I need.

Weekends

Headaches have become an almost every weekend occurrence, most likely brought on by the stress of the past week and the pressures of whatever weekend I am facing. I attempted to walk off last Saturday's headache by heading to the woods with my camera, but I came out with a headache of either the same or greater intensity. Being calm on the outside does not produce peace and rest when my insides are churning. (Thankfully, I did not have a headache today.)

If last Saturday I was an emotion- ally tense and vulner- able mess, today I was far from it. The headache and emotional upheaval of last weekend produced some changes this week. I made some plans to reduce a bit of stress. I ordered a load of crushed stone for our unfinished front walkway, made a plan to purchase a bit of insulation for my attic whose 70 year old insulation is tired and drooping, and decided once again to "eat the elephant one bite at a time." 

I was blessed this week with a visit to my therapist's office on Wednes- day, dinner with a friend on Thursday, the return of "Man Hater's Club" (pottery night with my cousins), and a absolutely gorgeous autumn woods walk with a childhood friend this morning. Hannah made an apple pie this afternoon and two of my boys came for a visit. It was a fabulous day! Tomorrow after church I will stop by the Flower City Pottery Invitational after church and make a visit to my beautiful Bethany who has a birthday tomorrow. Maybe I'll even pick up something special for dessert.

I'm slowly, ever so slowly, learning what makes Martha tick, slowly learning to be compassionate with myself. It's almost disappointing to have all of this dawn on me so late in life... but then again, maybe it's happening exactly on time.

Magically Delicious

I am beginning the grand, new adventure of quitting Zyrtec and let me tell you, this is going to be agonizing. Not only do I have seasonal allergies, but I deal with terrible itching, which is why I have taken antihistamines long term. Every time I forget a day, I begin to experience intense itching. I could scratch myself raw. I have been 

known, in the past, to wake up vigorously scratching my feet, ankles or legs. I've had lines and patches of hives left from my fingernails. Just rubbing up against something can get the itching started, something as simple as removing a piece of clothing. 

Last week I discovered that intense itching is a symptom of withdrawal. I was itching because I was taking the medicine! Oh, boy... It's been two days and it could be three weeks. I tried tapering off the medication a bit last week but even so I am driving myself crazy with the scratching and there is not a part of my being that can't join in the party. (I took a Benadryl this evening in the hope that I'll be able to sleep.)

In other news, better news, my people and I took a trip back to Mendon Ponds this afternoon. Number Nine had several little birds take a seed from his hand and was thoroughly delighted!

 I love watching to look the of wonder and sheer delight come over the faces of my kids and grandchildren when a chickadee lands on their finger. Even Killian found it amusing.

I had needed a walk in the woods and this outing was absolutely perfect.

Another Woods Walk, Because

 I took myself for a walk yesterday afternoon. I didn't go far, just a few miles down the road to a local nature preserve. 

Not sure what this evening will hold. It's been a laid back and lazy kind of Sunday as I stayed home with my daughter and the little guys. Feels like Saturday, even though it's not.

A Little Bit of This Week

 I'm growing and learning every day. Growing can be painful. As much as I don't like pain, it is an incredible motivator.

I woke up 45 minutes late this morning and had no time for my daily shower. I washed as quickly as I could and ran out the door without shampooing my hair. I had two appointments after work with no time to come home in between, or so I thought. My duties were over 15 minutes early, giving me just enough time to run home and wash my hair before heading out.

Chiropractor. He gives me my weekly hug along with a spinal adjustment. Today I asked him if feet make the back hurt or the back makes the feet hurt. My ankles have been bothering me since I came home from the beach... He asked a few questions, scoffed at my flip flops, and gave me a card for a pedorthist. "You won't call. I can tell," he said. Pish! I don't like sore feet. Maybe I'll call them tomorrow.

Therapist. It was a good talk. He asks hard questions and makes me think. He suggests doing things that go against what I naturally tend to do. He helps me look inside to see where my thoughts need to change. He encourages me to let others own their own feelings, and not to take on what isn't mine to carry. This is hard because I naturally carry the hurts, emotions, and responses of others. It doesn't mean I should lose all empathy, but it does mean I need to let go of what isn't mine. Things I learned in CoDA.

On Monday evening I found myself home alone. The lake has been stinky with the yearly die-off of small fish, and so I decided to take my camera and go to another place I love. I headed for the woods. It was a lovely evening, the smell of honeysuckle heavy in the air. I walked a familiar trail and took pictures as I went. Along the way a few bikes passed, and a man and woman walked together. I was not completely alone. My prize photo opportunity was a Pileated Woodpecker finding dinner in a downed log. It was quite fabulous!

Shooting in the Woods

I took myself back to the woods at Webster Park yesterday because, as I told my friend Dan, "It may not be good for the allergies, but it is good for the soul." It was a slow walk, soaking in the sights and sounds. I took two camera lenses this time, one for bigger scenes and one to catch what would otherwise be invisible. 

I did not walk to the campground this time, but circled the back edge of the park and a few trails just outside the perimeter, the West Trail and the Midnight Trail and a few unnamed and off the beaten path. I was blessed to capture tiny birds, a little red squirrel, and three deer. (For those concerned, although there is no hunting allowed within the park and it isn't yet shotgun season.)

I stopped twice down by the lake, once before and once after my walk. I was sitting on the stone beach collecting lake glass when I heard a voice behind me and turned to see my friend Gail. "I wondered if you'd be here," she said. Sometimes I am surprised by how well she knows me. Once my pocket was full of glass and my stomach was rumbling at being empty, I finally headed home for the evening. 

It was another simply beautiful day.

The Woods at Webster Park

I have a lot of thoughts, and plenty of words, but not much I can write here... so I'll tell you about my weekend. 

 

 

 

 I spent some more time walking alone in the woods this past weekend. When I have my camera along, I'm never really alone. I parked inside Webster Park this time, walked to the campground, and sneaked through an unoccupied campsite to the hill of pines that lines the sites where Mom and Dad used to set up our camper. It didn't look like I remember, the pines are old and dying, and the undergrowth is taking over, and yet I found it all wonderfully enchanting. I couldn't resist building a pine cone house. Or two. Or, actually three.

After exploring the edge of the campground, I changed my lens and headed toward the "boy scout" part of the park where Mom and Dad took us on long afternoon walks when we camped. It was a favorite part of the day. I used to think I could never get lost in Webster Park. Ha ha! I probably overestimated myself, but I haven't been too lost to find my way out again yet. (It's not that big a park. Don't worry.)

When my camera battery died, I needed to make a decision. Go on without taking pictures? Or go home and charge the battery? (Like that was any question...) I returned an hour later to finish my walk and even made it all the way back to Mohawk Lodge, which when we walked with Mom and Dad, meant we had gone on a really long walk. 

It was the perfect day.