Tag: winter

Tranquilize your (winter) writing

by Karen, posted in Life in the cube, NaNoWriMo, NaNoWriMo2014, Work from Home, writing

IMG_9996We need to take care of ourselves while we are spending endless hours writing at our computers. Just because the NaNoWriMo has officially ended, if you’re like me, you have much writing still to do to get your project ready to see the light of day. We need to do things to keep our thoughts tranquil (OMG! My shoulder is killing me! I don’t have enough time! I’m frikkin’ starving!!) and our anxieties (OMG! I’ll never finish! This is garbage! I have to start over again!!)  at bay.

Here are some ideas for tranquilizing winter writing:

  1. 1. Get an swesome flannel sweater vest at Old Navy  that is as comforting as a BLANKIE.  🙂
  2. 2. Have you seen those microwaveable body blankets? Grampa’s Garden sells them. They are pricey but worth it. Zap for 7 minutes in the microwave and cover your desk chair with it (or slip it under you or over you if you are writing on the couch). You will LOVE it.
  3. 3. Get a Himalayan Salt Lamp. They create a nice atmosphere and ambiance when you are writing, reportedly purify the air around you (to counteract all the curse words you may be saying or writing!) and make a handy little night light if you need nap. 🙂

Every bit of heat and comfort helps, don’t you think? Does anyone have something to add to my list?

 

 

Gratitude continued

by Karen, posted in (it's all about the) food, family, Gratitude Journal 2013, Marriage

body blanket

January 24, 2013
1 For my husband, who took my daughter to school when it was 1 degree below zero so that both I and she could stay warm.
2. My Grampa’s Garden microwavable body blanket. Enough said.
3. My washer and dryer. I remember hauling laundry to the laundromat.
4. My crock pot. Best winter cooking tool.
5. Hot chocolate with whipped cream (reference 1 degree below zero above).

Ode to snow, part 2

by Karen, posted in Adult children, family, fitness, health, Marriage, Midlife Crisis, teens, Turning 50
http://wintercenter.homestead.com/files/1978vt.jpg
http://wintercenter.homestead.com/files/1978vt.jpg

My thoughts wandered, fueled by cold and the discomfort of muscles that are rarely used screaming their displeasure at being exploited in the manner required by shoveling.

I remember being handed a shovel and instructions to go “do the front steps” of our house. We had a house with 14 concrete steps at that time. “Do the steps” was an hour at least of back breaking work. Should I mention that we lived in that house during the blizzard of ’78?

I had to go outside and shovel with my scaled-to-my-size shovel gifted to me for Christmas by mom and dad when I was four years old. Even though my midlife memory leaves something to be desired (reference I remember nothing by Nora Ephron), I swear, it’s true! I have a picture around here somewhere….

My parents stayed inside and smiled and waved at us kids while we kids were outside shoveling.

As it should be.

The 50 year old mom shouldn’t be outside shoveling while the 13 year old daughter is inside glued to her itouch.

Then I had another thought. When my mother was 50 years old, she couldn’t shovel. She was busy being diagnosed with a stage IV pelvic cancer of an uncertain type. She couldn’t shovel. She was busy dying.

Suddenly, I was very happy to be a 50 year old woman outside shoveling.  A woman with 2 happy, healthy kids, married to the love of my life. A woman with a strong, healthy body for whom shoveling was not only possible, but beneficial cardiovascularly speaking. A woman with a house and yard that needed shoveling.

Wayne Dyer was right: “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”

Ode to snow, part 1

by Karen, posted in family, health, no fear

snowIt snowed last night.

A lot.

You know; the kind of snow that makes it almost impossible to open your freakin’ back door and get out of your house? Worse, it fell on top of the same kind (and amount) of snow that fell two days ago. The large accumulations that always come when the weather people are forecasting a dusting to an inch. The kind that always comes when your husband is out of state and  your adult son is unable to help. Massive snowfall.

I woke up my (adult) son.

Me: “Hey, give me your car keys and I’ll start your car. What time do you have to be at work? You’re going to need some extra time today.”

Him: “Hrumph.”

I started his car. I cleaned it off. After he left, I woke my (teenaged) daughter. Made her lunch. Then I grabbed my snow gear (note: it is really MOM who needs the snow pants, not the kids) and headed outside to (try to) shovel.

You know, it’s hard to shovel when the snow banks are over your head.

As I was freezing my ass off (25 degrees here) and my feet were going numb (my knee high boots were too short; the snow was higher and piled into them every time I took a step, and my socks had migrated somewhere into the boot and were no longer covering my feet), my thoughts were interrupted by my aforementioned (did I say she’s 13?) daughter waving and smiling at me from the window.

What is wrong with this picture?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

…to be continued…

Water torture? Not!

by Karen, posted in books, health

“If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” ~Wayne Dyer

Last night I was trying to shut off my (monkey) mind long enough to fall asleep when I became aware of a noise that at first I couldn’t place.

What was it? Oh no…drip, drip, drip….It was water. Dripping water, like of the water torture variety.  A little more investigation gleaned some annoying information: it was from somewhere outside. You know, so that it couldn’t be shut off. OMG. I could feel my blood pressure inching up as I was freaking out about my coming sure-to-be-sleepless night of listening to the drip-drip-dripping water (icicles melting from the roof) when I suddenly had another thought. This time though, it was a useful thought.

It was Wayne Dyer’s quote (above) that popped into my head. I had heard it earlier that day in an audiobook.  There was not a thing on God’s green earth that I could do at 10 o’clock at night to stop the dripping water outside, but hey, maybe I could change how I was thinking about the dripping water?

I gave it a try:

  1. I’m grateful for the roof over my head.
  2. I’m happy to be in my own bed in my own home.
  3. Maybe the dripping is not so bad?
  4. What if I try to meditate? I could say the “So Hum” meditation (the one that I know I can do without thinking too much about it).
  5. What if every time I notice a drip, I (mentally) say the word “So”, then the next drip, I say the word “Hum”, and so on?  Which at least gave me something constructive to do and actually might coax my blood pressure back down to an acceptable level?

Well…guess what! It worked! I still heard it, but it didn’t make me anxious or mad anymore. In an odd sort of way, it felt comforting. So here’s a corollary to Wayne’s quote: If you change the way you listen to things, the things you listen to change.

🙂