STANDING ON MY OWN

Slipping into bed last night, I got to thinking about the distance from Kerry’s home in the foothills of Mt. St. Helens … to my house here, at Heron Pointe: until I drove that highway myself, I didn’t fully realize the distance.

And I also got to thinking about how self-sufficient I will become when I get my new home in the country.

So, I decided that I’d start standing on my own – starting with hanging that foyer mirror 😉

The trouble is not with hanging the mirror, itself: it’s more to do with finding the studs behind the wall, and securing screws in place to hold the weight of the mirror.

Kerry, like Bob, knows how to do that by tapping on the walls and listening for the sound vibrations that tells where the studs are. Also, Bob would automatically just know by determining how the house was built – that would tell him exactly where the studs were placed.

I don’t know any of that.

So, I asked for help: and would watch, to learn.

But, last night, I decided that I would just have to cut Kerry some slack in his Good Samaritan mercies, and learn by jumping into the fire and hoping I don’t get burned 😉

Reroute for Naselle Coffee Hour; canceled Friday plans.

Beaver Creek Road from Heron Pointe; via WA-4 W - 19 mins.

Beaver Creek Road drops onto the Elochoman Road.

Naselle from Beaver Creek Road, off the Elochoman Road; via WA-4 W - 48 mins.

This morning, before pulling out of the carport on my way to Naselle, I called Kerry and told him I’m grateful for all his help … but “I need to figure this man stuff out for myself”.

And I do.

When I get to the country, I’ll have to be self-sufficient.

I need to figure this 'man stuff' out, on my own; if I plan on moving to the country.

I want to be self-sufficient: I once was.

I do not want to do what other widows do: get married to have a man on hand to get things done.

I am capable of getting my own stuff done.

My confidence was crippled, and my gray matter was sputtering with misfires all of 2019. I missed Bob so much I lost sense of who I was without him. My life and body missed Bob so much, my brain was running interference with the missingness, by shutting down my thought process when the missingness was overwhelming.

Widows and widowers got that; others didn’t.

I appeared addle-minded.

But I was really in survival mode.

My life started getting on track all of 2020.

My confidence was strengthened, and my brain didn’t have to run interference with my thoughts anymore: I was more engaged in the moment to moment happening of a daily life unfolding.

I wasn’t asking for help so much.

My life was making a comeback 😊

With the dawning of 2021, I was back in the swing of things.

Life is humming along – I like that.

I want to keep up that momentum.

So, last night, I decided that I needed to up the ante in getting back into the swing of things. I am not a stupid woman – if I don’t know something, I can learn: and using a stud finder is just as good as tapping on the walls.

I gave all Bob’s drills and drill bits to Alex and Kerry because they were just too darned heavy and bulky for my hands and wrists. But, I can buy smaller drills; heavy enough to get the job done – yet light enough to use, without causing pain to my wrist joint.

I’m pretty sure I can get both at Lowe’s, in town.

By leaving early, and driving over Beaver Creek Road, I made good time in getting to Naselle 😊

The day was a beautiful blue-sky-day, despite the smoke on the breeze: though everyone coughed a little now and then, it wasn’t enough to hurt the lungs or make breathing a painful burn.

On my way back home, I made a detour to Eden Valley.

Eden Valley from Naselle; via WA-4 E - 25 mins.

I’m not carrying on a convo at the cemetery anymore; but when I have big decisions to make, or weighty things on my mind … I will drive out there, and just sit.

I’m not going there as often as I was – that’s a bittersweet growth in my forward movement.

‘Til I Can Make It On My Own’ song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHycUpawWh0

It comforts me – I know he’s not there; but there is a connection of sorts, there.

I miss Bob’s calm and soothing presence; his cremains are there. That knowledge, is enough to help me sort my emotions.

Everything was manicured nicely.

I miss his voice; I miss our conversations – though I cannot hear Bob’s voice anymore … I can remember what he sounded like. I can recall the advice he gave then – and would give now if he could.

It’s oddly relaxing to just sit there: it is helpful at times.

Leaving Eden Valley, I turned onto Barr Road. It’s a nice country drive. As I was driving along, listening to Bad Company, a sign caught my eye as I passed it …

Barr Road from Eden Valley; via Eden Valley Road & Altoona-Pillar Rock Road - 14 mins.

This was not on Barr Road on Sunday, when I drove through.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing!

I braked – and backed up, to be sure I saw what I thought I saw.

I snapped a pic, and jetted it off to my realtor to be checked out.

Turning off Barr Road, and onto the Covered Bridge Road, I had to brake and back up again!

Again, I snapped a pic and jetted it off to my realtor; to see if we can learn more about it and find out how available (as in price range) it is.

These houses won't last long, so we gotta strike while the iron is hot.

It's been 3 years since the last one was posted.

This one is on the Covered Bridge Road ... both are surprising; real estate here is very rare.

Covered Bridge Road from Barr Road; via Barr Rd & Covered Bridge Rd - 5 mins.

I glance at this house on the hill every time I drive through – I’ve never seen it for sale before; the locale is perfect: I’m waiting on a price quote.

I was feeling pretty excited, and hopeful – houses for sale here is pretty rare. Graysriver is the area I hope to relocate to, but seeing house for sale is rare: most people sell privately to people they know. Outsiders (aka: not born there), like me, find finding a house there very difficult.

But, I have been praying.

And hoping.

I am standing on His promises.

And Elohim is showing me He is listening 😊

Even if neither of these houses pan out for me … I know that Elohim is hearing me; and if it is His Will for me to live in Graysriver, He will make a way for me to purchase a home there.

There is no doubt – on my part – about that.

Before I turned the Highlander towards home, I decided to drive to Aunt Frieda’s home and ask if she or John might know anything about these houses: who they belong to, where exactly are the flood areas when Winter arrives (both houses are on hills, so the house itself, would be safe). The houses listed surprised her too, so she went on a driving tour with me. We agreed the house on The Covered Bridge Road would suit me best, if it’s meant to be.

If not, she’s agreed to keep her ear to the ground for other possibles.

And I know I can count on Elohim to clue me in when the right one comes along 😉

Beaver Creek Road from Covered Bridge Road; via WA-4 E - 30 mins.

Heron Pointe from Beaver Creek Road; via Beaver Creek Rd & WA-4 E - 27 mins.

I followed a motorcycle all the way from Mill Creek Road to Longview. My heart was in my throat because there was a kid on the back; looked to be about 7 or 8 yo … and very active. He kept wiggling around to look at my car – and the cars behind me: I mean, he was turning his whole body around, not just his head.

What was the driver thinking????

Kids riding in cars have to wear seat belts!

Other than the flimsy helmet the kid was wearing, there was no protection for him at all if that bike tipped, due to all his constant crawling all over the seat.

It was stressful to watch.

This made me nervous - the kid was fidgety; I stayed waaaay back away from them.

I was glad to get away from that disaster waiting to happen, and park in the carport.

I made a salad from garden gleanings: tasty greens (salad and beet leaves), crisp carrot slices, scallions, cucumber, purslane, parsley; nasturtiums, violets, and homemade salad dressing.

Supper Salad.

SO YUM 😊

After Supper, I reviewed my monthly household budget; crunched the numbers, and though I don’t have an accurate quote yet on what I can realistically sell this house for … I am relatively confident that I can buy a decent home in the area I am aiming for.

On my own.

Standing on Faith; and praying for a hefty down payment.

Today was a good day; full of love, hope, and encouragement.

GAME CHANGE

This morning, while hanging the hummingbird feeders on the front porch, I noticed that the clouds on the northern horizon looked tinged with smoke (there have been so many wildfires the past 3 years, I’ve learned to recognize the signs); so, anticipating days on end stuck indoors, I decided to go for a morning walk before I literally can’t leave the house.

Canada wildfire smoke drifting to WA State: https://www.reuters.com/world/us/smoke-us-west-wildfires-leaves-easterners-gasping-2021-07-20/

‘Fire’ song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YzHtePuz13U

The smoke was barely discernable on the breeze, but I did have to use my inhaler after walking; so, the house air conditioner is off limits too – because though I have a heat pump/air conditioning unit that limits air-bourne irritants, it still sucks in outside air which is smoke tainted: smoke can’t really be filtered with irritant-filtering filters the way other lung irritants can.

Ditto for the car air conditioner.

But, this morning, I was able to enjoy the outdoors for a little while. And my lungs weren’t struggling too much.

Setting long-term goals; for long-term results.

One goal is ‘walking more; sitting less’ – that includes driving. Driving is a sedentary thing; and that leads to added poundage ... which leads to stress on bones, muscles, and lungs: lungs already struggling with asthma complications.

I had stopped at Lowe’s on the way to Lake Sacajawea, to check out the wall adhesive hanging hooks – I was hoping I’d find some that would securely hold the weight of the foyer mirror I want to hang. There weren’t any strong enough, so I called my BIL and asked for his help next time he comes off the mountain 😉

He thinks he may be down Friday.

I want to learn how to find the studs behind walls.

I want to become as self-sufficient as possible.

Not a day goes by, that I do not wish I had paid more attention to what Bob was doing when he was doing things around the house. People ask me if I have any regrets: that would be it. I should have dogged his every step, and watched his every move when he was doing 'husbandly' things.

I hate feeling so ignorant at times.

I hate being so needy at times.

Kerry may be coming Friday to help & to teach by demonstration.

Learning to cool my jets a bit.

A real pain in the butt ... which extends to the sole of the foot, when seriously inflamed.

Moderating my walking routine.

Changing the game some.

Bob’s physical death displaced me in my own life: and there is no way to fix this disorientation … other than to build a new life in a new place, where I have never set up house with Bob.

I need to change the game plan.

I need the change of a new location to begin my new life.

For nearly 3 years, I’ve done what Bob asked: I kept the house.

But, the house is hamstringing my life.

Its walls echo with silence … and that silence can be crippling.

The house is haunted with a life that no longer exists.

This house will never again be a haven of love, that includes Bob; it will never again resound with a child’s laughter, or vibrate with lively family exuberance.

This house is merely an empty shell of a life that used to be.

I am rarely here anymore – I sleep here; and on occasion I eat here.

But I do not {live} here.

The house has served its purpose.

Now, it’s time to move on: so, my new life can move forward.

Realistically, I know a part of me will always miss Bob in my life – no matter where I am.

And a part of me will always be searching for a sense of belonging because my entire life was blown to Hell and back by the loss of my husband … and the cruel abandonment of the kids.

I know for a fact that my wanderlust (which was always a driving force in my life; with, or without Bob in it) was pushed into overdrive because I have been forced into a life I did not ask for, and I do not want.

My life, 31 months/6 days ago, was alive and full of color.

My days and nights were fun; and passionate.

Since August 30^th of 2018 … my life has been robbed of color; and since December 14^th of 2018, the life of my life has been seriously altered.

For the past 20 months, I’ve made steady and successful inroads into my new life that has filled some of the emptiness, and softened most of the sorrow.

Daytrips have given my aching and restless spirit something to get excited about throughout the weeks of the passing months; and it has enlivened my becoming life … and I am grateful for that mercy.

But my life needs a game change to fully recharge and sizzle with life again.

As a widow, trying to move forward with yesterday’s hobbles, I do not feel that I belong, anymore, where I am currently at.

And if Bob is watching me struggle to live without him, he knows this too.

I believe Bob is supporting my decision to move on, as I move forward.

‘Because I Can’ song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ueJ7TMSYr0

Bob, in his dwindling life-on-Earth-hours, told me to live again.

He would not want me to continue struggling with the unhappiness this Park has saddled me with.

He would want me to take the profits I gain from the sale of this house and invest it in another home, in another location, that will bring me peace of spirit.

Bob knew me – he knew me well: he understands.

I will be moving forward, carrying his love with me: and I won’t feel crippled by it anymore … when I sell/load up/shake the dust off of this Park, off my feet.

What have I got to lose that I haven’t already lost?

Nothing.

Not 1 thing.

2021 has birthed several adjustments – not just the need for a new change of address.

2021 has also caused me to rethink my aging body’s needs.

The Fall/Winter of 2020 was painful (I was laid up on my back for weeks to relieve the pain), and the recurring flareups which were originally attributed to sciatica until April of this year, are forcing me to limit my movement activities. That means cutting back on hiking mileage, as well as driving distances.

It’s another adjustment in my ‘becoming’ life.

And if I don't seriously adjust to my aging body's demand ... my body will force the adjustment by applying the emergency break (aka: the piriformis muscle).

It is painful.

It is controllable.

It's an adjustment that is needed.

Adjusting to restraint is hard.

The changes are going to take some getting used to.

So, I am doing some serious reflection. Some soul searching. And some slo-mo adjustment.

When I wrapped my morning walk up, I headed to the Bank to see if Monday’s Fred Meyer fracas had been straightened out; I was geared to haul out my BadAss Card, and morph into a Tasmanian devil if my funds were still frozen.

As yu’all know, from reading my Blog over the years … I do not take kindly to hobbling, of any sort 😉

Being taken advantage of is not okay with me.

Monday, FM charged me for someone else's gas - and froze my funds until the dispute was resolved.

( https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2021/07/what-monday.html)

Even it up!

( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLhxF-Un39k)

The Bank says my funds have been liberated again.

And tomorrow, unless the smoke is seriously bad (as in very visibly heavy in the air) I still plan on driving to Naselle tomorrow for my Coffee Hour with friends … because my lungs shouldn’t be affected much at all getting from car to house.