Category: no fear

One of those women

by Karen, posted in friends, Midlife Crisis, no fear

I realized today, as I peered at myself in the bathroom mirror, deciding whether to eat breakfast first or shower first…that the roots of my hair were looking kind of gray and dark. Then I had my second realization: I’d become one of those women.

You know, one of those women who dyed their hair, only worse. I’d joined that club about two (OMG! I think it was two!) years ago when I gave in to public opinion and dyed my hair for the first time. How did I make it to my late forties without ever dying my hair, ever? Not even highlights.

Well, I had some bad encounters with some perms over the years…’nuf said.

When I finally decided to dye it, it was just to try to cover most of the gray (that truthfully, I really didn’t even see. It was mostly on top of my head, so I had to tip my head and look down to see any gray, which I rarely did). I didn’t want to change the color one iota. In fact, I didn’t want anyone to know I’d done it at all…can you say, “Subtle”? That was my goal.

The wonderful woman that agreed to take me on was very brave. I have to give Deb tons of credit (and Susan tons of thanks, for introducing us). She listened to me tell her how much I didn’t want to do what I was about to hire her to do. She patiently listened to me debating the choices (permanent? semi-permanent?) and to me imploring her over and over to make sure that it would match my normal color so that no one would notice it was dyed. She did this. She pulled it off.

Anyway, once I started dying it, I got into a routine. A routine that I didn’t think too much about over the past two years (maybe three?). . . until this morning. When I realized I’d become one of those women.

One of those women who didn’t know what color her hair actually is anymore.

I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

Angels at Clay Hill Farm, part 2

by Karen, posted in (it's all about the) food, friends, local fun, no fear

I attended the Angel Dinner the other night with a friend and I loved it. I wasn’t sure what to expect, so if you are wondering how it works, let me clue you in.

You come in and are seated by the waitress.

Ruth Kramer is the Intuitive featured at Clay Hill Farm’s Angel Readings. She is a lovely woman with a British accent who is full of energy and enthusiasm for her work. First, she comes right over to introduce herself to you and explain how the evening will go.

You will be seated at a table with other patrons (there were six people total seated at my table). Usually the small room is sold out for Ruth’s Angel Reading dinners, but on this night we were at about 1/2 capacity. This was lucky for us because she had a little more time to spend with each of us for our readings.

Little notepads are provided on the table along with pencils for you to write down any questions that occur to you to ask Ruth as you are waiting for your reading. Dinner will be served in a parade of amazing courses which you will choose upon arrival from a small menu. Warm rolls, then soup or salad. There will be several entrees, including a vegetarian one. Several incredible dessert choices will follow that will most likely be your most difficult decision all evening…which one? Can I have two? 🙂

If you think of it, you can bring a device to tape your reading, if “the angels will allow it”…Ruth says sometimes the angels will not allow her words to you from them to be taped.  So as a back up plan (if you go with a friend like I did) you can take notes for each other as Ruth is speaking (my friend’s idea) so that you can fully concentrate on what she is telling you versus trying to write it down and listen simultaneously.

I took pictures of the food, but the lighting was so low that none of them are really good enough to include here…maybe the angels didn’t wish the food to be seen? 🙂

Ruth will be at the Clay Hill Farm one more Monday night, as of this writing, on November 14. Call 207-361-2272 for reservations.

WHAT is THAT?

by Karen, posted in (it's all about the) food, family, Midlife Crisis, no fear

My husband usually calls to chat when he’s commuting from work. “Remind me when I get home; I have something for you,” he said. I wondered what it might be. He often brings home little surprises. Sometimes it’s a pastry of some sort, or a plant, or a book that he thinks that I might like.

Not this time. This time, my husband brought these home from work.  They were on the kitchen island in a small plastic baggie.

I looked at them through the baggie. I (cautiously! oh so cautiously!) eased them out of the baggie. I laid them out on the island.My husband stood just off to the side, watching, amused.

“So, what the heck are they?” I finally asked him.

“Guess,” he said.

My first thought was this: “Brian Dennehy called; he wants his pods back.”

🙂

He didn’t laugh. He really doesn’t get my jokes.

“Are they an insect of some sort?” I wondered, distracted by the little black “legs” protruding from the surface. “Nope,” he replied.

“Give me a hint, at least,” I begged.

“Well, it’s a fruit,” he said,  unhelpfully.

A fruit? Really? Really? I considered this.

A very hairy, masculine strawberry? On testosterone, maybe.

After a while, I gave up, but he still didn’t divulge the fruit’s identity. He cut it open, removed the center (after which I was leaning back toward my pod theory) which turned out to be a smooth white spongy oval that resembled a small hard-boiled egg, except that there was a pit where the yolk should be.

It tasted like a grape. This, actually, was not useful in helping me to identify the fruit.

Turns out, it’s a Rambutan. So I tried it, which enables me to proclaim that at the age of 49, I got to try a fruit that I’d never had before…and may I just say, “Eeew.”

It is experience that I’m not in planning to repeat.

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Critters in the Attic Update

by Karen, posted in family, friends, no fear, Someone's gotta say it

Critter free, day three. I’m feeling hopeful and confident enough to say what we did to have driven them away for good.

  1. Well, there was some activity in my bathroom ceiling above the shower. I turned on the exhaust fan and left it running around the clock for a couple of days (okay, all week) and I didn’t hear them there again.
  2. Also, we blasted the TV (or the stereo, if there was nothing good on :)) near the end of the house from where we thought the varmints were coming and going…I think that helped.
  3. Interim measure (used when husband was away and I was on overload from sleep deprivation):   I slept with the pillow over my head to block out that scratching, scratching, scratching noise that made my stomach contents heave up into my lower esophagus….
  4. My husband made several trips up to the attic~ no easy feat. It entails hauling the ladder from the garage to the house, then up two flights of stairs to a closet in my office. He then had to squeeze through a very small cut out in the closet’s ceiling to get into the attic…no unlike how the squirrel must squeeze through an opening about the size of a quarter to get into the attic from outside in the first place. A sonic repellant was set up and lights were left on.
  5. Traps were set. Nothing was caught, but maybe the critters took the bait. We saw one squirrel in the front yard yesterday that was looking more than a little ragged. Yay.

What I learned as we talked with people about what to do about this problem is that almost everyone we know is dealing with it right now (or knows someone who is). This gave us a sense of camaraderie, a feeling that we weren’t in it alone. We were all rooting for each other and against the critters. Lots of people had advice and all of it was good. My motto:  “Try everything” was tempered by my husband’s motto: “Let’s think about it first,” a combination that has served us well over the years and did not let us down this time.

Angels at Clay Hill Farm

by Karen, posted in (it's all about the) food, friends, no fear, restaurants

My friend Kristen recently offered me the gift of angels in the form of a visit to my house. It had strings attached, however. One must, after hosting the aforementioned angels for a period of time, send them on their merry way to the households of three other people.

I could not think of three other people who would have been willing to take the time to host. Sadly, I passed on the gift.

Then another friend told me about Clay Hill Farm’s current Monday night special. Rev. Ruth Kramer apparently can speak to angels and, more importantly, tell us what they are saying. She gives readings every Monday night (for now) at the restaurant. I’m interested in that, I thought. It occurred to me that since I couldn’t have the angels come to me…could the angels be bringing me to them?

I made plans for tonight to go hear what they have to say to me. The bonus is that dinner at the restaurant is part of the deal.

Because even when it’s about the angels, it’s still all about the food.

🙂

Critter Crusade, Part 2

by Karen, posted in education, friends, no fear, shopping

So, the baits we (read: ‘he‘, my husband; he did the actual crawling around up in the crawl space) put out yesterday were not effective. It sounds now as if the critters brought in some reinforcements, so we were forced to regroup and redouble our efforts.

  1. First stop: Tractor Supply Company in Sanford. Anyone who has read my blog knows that I love the TSC which is why we went there first. Well, that, and because it was on the way home from the gym and we had limited time today since it was a workday. We split up to make the most of our time. My husband went to the pest control section and talked to the (as it turned out) very knowledgable staff person about…options. I stayed up in front and browsed the books and magazines  (I love books and magazines! This was very soothing to me after my difficult night listening to non-specified critters running overhead). Spent $10 and left with a small bag of …ideas (like reaming out the bait pellets and filling them with peanut butter).
  2. Next stop: Wal-Mart (sorry, Sheila). Waste of time. Staff person told us he had nothing in hardware to address this critter issue, to try looking in sporting goods. What? What? Wal-Mart = Waste of time.
  3. The next planned stop was the hardware store but we ran out of time, so we just came home.

In the interim, I put up a plea on Facebook for ideas from the front. Who has fought this critter war and won it? Well, I got lots of very welcome responses (thank you all!)  but no one who actually claimed to have evicted the little devils on their own, without bringing in the professionals. My friend Mandy gave me a good website from The Humane Society to check out. My friend Denise gave me the names of some good exterminators (you know, just in case). My friend Kristen gave me moral support and commiseration.

Actually, it’s amazing how many people are dealing with exactly the same issue right now. We found a person at the gym, a person at TSC, and people on FB all with critters in their attics right now. I guess it’s gonna take the village…

Maybe some of our efforts were successful today, since I’m not hearing any critters overhead at the moment and it’s well after dark as I write this. At this time last night the antics in the attic were already in full swing.

Here’s hopin’.

What’s in the attic?

by Karen, posted in no fear, relationships

There I was, sound asleep, minding my own business, when what do I hear? I had no clue. A loud noise awakened me, but I had no idea at first from whence it came. I lay there, listening hard, wondering why oh why does this always happen when my husband is away?

Suddenly, I hear it: scratch, scratch, scratch directly over my head. As in: above the ceiling. In the attic? OMG. OMG. (Did I say OMG?). All I could think of was that it was mice. Ew.

The next night my husband was there. He heard it too. Time to get serious. When things get tough, the tough get going…to the hardware store… for, um, supplies. Surprise! They aren’t cheap (but I bet you knew that already…). We took them home. My husband went up into the (God bless him) attic (read: crawl space) and scattered said supplies about. We waited, breath bated…okay, mine, not his.

The next night was pretty quiet, actually. Could our efforts have paid off so fast? I was nearly giddy with relief…until the next night.

The next night, it sounded like the intruders were having a wild bowling match. Over. My. Head. 

Well, they carried on, having a grand ol’ time, waking me up periodically throughout the night. Finally, around 7:30am my husband and I were discussing the situation and wondering what to do next when out of the corner of my eye I saw (through the window) something drop from the roof and thump! hit the ground running…a squirrel!

So, now we’re waiting, traps baited.

To be continued…

Susan Conley at Kennebooks

by Karen, posted in books, friends, good grief, health, local fun, no fear, relationships, writing

Susan Conley recently came to Kennebooks to read from her book, The Foremost Good Fortune. Susan is a Mainer, raised in Woolwich. In addition to being a great writer, she is also a great reader. Maybe this is because (as we learned in her talk) Susan is a poetry teacher, and when she reads passages from her book aloud, in her slow, sing-song-y sort of way of drawing out the syllables, the consonant sounds…it makes her book sound like poetry. Could this manner of speech perhaps be connected to her learning to speak Mandarin?

 I also learned that hula hooping and badminton are “huge” in China.  That she was involved in the founding of The Children’s Room.

“Memoir is all about honesty,” Susan says, and further states that “you feel it when it’s not (honest).”  This is why, after her writers group read her earlier drafts of this book they basically asked her, “Where are you in this?” and she ultimately rewrote so that she was now “showing up” on the page. “You’ve got to take us to those places,” her writing friend said, of “emotional complexity” that were lacking in the earlier work. Oh and of course, I learned the significance of the title of the book.

🙂

Susan started writing her book, was diagnosed with cancer, then started writing it all over again. A different book. This book. She says she told her story in the present tense in the book and thinks of it as a love letter to her sons, who she hopes will read it one day.

Finally, The best thing that I learned is that Susan has been cancer-free for three years.

Susan may be back at Kennebooks in March as part of the Maine Women Write Book Club. Consider joining! The first meeting is slated for mid-October at the time of this writing. Call (207-967-6136) or email Ann (ann@kennebooks.com) at Kennebooks for more information. Hope to see you there!

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What do (married) men want?

by Karen, posted in Date night, Midlife Crisis, no fear, relationships, Someone's gotta say it
Blue string bikini

I don’t know about you, but when I go to the beach, I am most comfortable when almost every inch of me is covered from my chest to oh, say about mid-thigh. Let’s just say that I am a big fan of those skirted bathing suits, which my husband refers to as ‘mommy-suits’ (or in his less charitable moments, suits his grandmother wore).

I wouldn’t have been caught dead at the beach when I was in my early twenties in a bikini, never mind in my (very, very) late forties! So, imagine my surprise when  just last week I did exactly that: that thing that I thought I could not do.

That bikini in the photo to your left? Yep. That was on me. And not just in the back yard…I was out in public. At Wells Beach. In the day time.

The secret is this: you must have bikini confidence. Know you look good. Most of us women (I think) have a distorted views of ourselves, how we really look to others. What we see and what our husbands (or significant others) see are two very different things. It’s all about perspective.

State Farm has it wrong about what men want…it’s not a falcon. What  a (married) man wants ..is to see his wife at the beach in a bikini!

Who knew? 🙂

Spaciousness (or: A Theory of Relativity)

by Karen, posted in book reviews, books, family, friends, health, Midlife Crisis, no fear, relationships, yoga

In the book What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty, she talks about the idea of spacious days.

What a concept!!!!

Mostly, my days feel jam-packed to me, without a moment to spare for anything. That’s how I usually think about them, at least. My to-do list is longer than my arm. I suspect that other mothers feel this way as well, since today I heard my friend Donna (also a mother) say those exact words.

In yoga, spaciousness is sought in your body through postures, in your mind through meditation. I’ve been searching for spaciousness through yoga for 4 years now (I’ll let you know when I find it).

🙂

Four years seems like kind of a long time to me…but as a percentage of my age, it’s not that long really. Could it be that all I really need is an adjustment of perspective?

Back to yoga class: this week, our instructor Kristen happened to mention that there was a period of her life that she would gladly relive, which sparked a conversation among the women in the class on this topic. As some of them mentioned ages that they would be interested in repeating, I did a quick review: high school? No way! Early twenties? No thank you!  I soon realized that I couldn’t think of any time period of my life that I would want to live through again, but then I reframed the question: What was a happy memory?

When I asked myself this question, I got a very clear image in my mind. It was in the summer: August 1991. It was in the first apartment that I shared with my husband after we got married.  The sun was streaming in through the large windows in the dining room, shining on my infant son, born just a couple of weeks prior. I remember being in that room, gazing at the baby, standing in the sun, and realizing that I’d never been happier than I was at that moment. Twenty years later, I can still stand in that room in my mind’s eye, and still feel that happiness just as strongly as I did that day.

So, I guess time is relative, just ask Einstein. Or Liane Moriarty.

Or me.

🙂