The Yellow Flowers and The Listless Vine

November 18 2022 

The Yellow Flowers And The Listless Vine 

I watched the steam twist and turn as it rose into the dimly lit room. The tomato plants in all stages of late life sat on the shelves beside me. One vine hanging from the ceiling, its leaves sagging listlessly, still carrying green and orange tomatoes. Another one has fresh shoots coming up from its original stem. Fresh yellow flowers bloom as if in protest of the season’s change. 

The ice that covered the world in whimsical works of frosted art this morning, a sure that winter is quite literally on the doorstep. 

All summer I had dreamed of being like the tomato that bloomed more flowers, somehow coming up with the strength and energy to fight the darkening days. I had to fight to find that energy in the summer when the days were warm and dry. 

I moved my foot to cover one of the overpowered jets and used it as a foot massager. Brent had put the pump from a much larger hot tub into this one when we salvaged it. This wonderful accidental upgrade happened solely because we did what we could with what we had at the time. 

I relaxed a little deeper, and stretched out a little more. It felt just like having a chance to star fish on the bed for those brief moments in the morning when the bed comes all mine. I star fished as I sank to the bottom of the tub. Covering my whole body, the whirling of the bubbles from the force of the jetted water dancing around me in flurry of warmth. The steam rising into the air around me. 

I thought about how great my body felt despite the chaos of the day. I have never been touched in the psoas before so even the knowing hands of a very skilled bodyworker touching the depth of my core was a very strange thing. To have that muscles fascia manually manipulated was a whole other inner body experience. I stretched out my torso and reflected on the limber feeling that now filled the middle of my once awkward feeling body. 

“You look taller” I heard twice today. I felt taller and flatter. I could feel parts of my body that I thought had left me for good 23 years ago when I had my first born. 

1.5 inches off my waist I had lost since last I looked. Now I wish I had payed a little more attention to those measurements as well instead of just the ones on the scale. 

I took a deep breath in and felt my ribs move freely. It was a good feeling to be able to breathe with less restriction. Now I fully understand why the horses I worked on for years loved me the way they did.

Another deep breath in and I switched feet. The yellow flower of the rebellious tomato plant caught my eye again. 

I set myself unrealistic expectations I have been told over, and over, and over again. I expect myself to do more than I really can. The odd thing is however that I can do more but not every day. Making those expectations not so unrealistic. There are these amazing days when the moon and the stars line up and I can focus on anything I choose and I have the energy to sustain me and my crazy ambitions all day as long as I want. The SPLAT!! I’m back to high functioning hot mess barely holding it together chasing the fairy tale of that perfect day. 

I wonder if the yellow flower is chasing the fairy tale of the perfect day or if she’s mastered the art of slowly moving forward with the tools she has. 

Another deep breath as I adjust my star fish position to find a new jet to massage my back. What a year this has been. So many of the things I managed to do I did with the ebb and flow of reality. Not everything I accomplished happened on one of those fairytale days. In fact it was quite the opposite. 

A flood of relief washed over me. I had managed to feel good enough to get through school, grow a bit of food, start Punink Pie under saddle and find my voice as a writer. There were days that set me back more days than I moved forward, but here I was on the 18th of November looking through the steam coming from a hot tub that took us four years to finally salvage, in the sunroom that Brent built for me when we first moved here at a flower growing when it shouldn’t be on a plant we started from seed. 

A deep breath out. Everything will happen when it happens. Not all days will be fairytales, but all days will lead to the future. And the future is starting to look pretty good now that I’m learning how to work with myself more kindly on the days that aren’t. I might not have the energy to bloom like I did all summer but I’m still quite happily ripening my fruit like the listless tomato plant hanging from the roof. 

As Simple As A Sandwich

November 16, 2022 

I slept until noon haunted by delirious dreams. There were strange realities and different realms of confusion. It was the strangest sleep I have had. As if I were having fever dreams without the fever. 

So covered in cat, I spent my day drinking things that help me feel better. Hoping to be rid of whatever is causing my weird ears and yuckiness. Thankfully my heel healed beautifully overnight by the end of the day I was walking without problems. 

By late afternoon I was finally ready to eat something. The gluten free flatbreads in the freezer that I save for moments when I'm in need of comfort food were a good choice for today. With a diagonal cut I separated the halves of the bread. Triangles being more fun to eat than rectangles. Spreading a thin layer of mystery pesto a dear friend of mine had just gifted me from the bounty of her summer's labor I started thinking about the food that I was about to eat. The green peppers plants that bore the fruit of the pepper I was now slicing are upstairs in the bathroom producing more fruit in our jungle of goodness. The tomatoes that bore the fruit I was putting next on my sandwich are growing next to them in the same bathroom jungle. The onion was a store bought one, and they made me sad that the tiny onions we did manage to grow in the garden weren’t here to be a part of my sandwich. 

The coho bits were left over from last night’s dinner. The coho that swam up the inlet, past our house to the old horse pasture, where it was caught and brought to us for nourishment. All parts we won't eat buried and nourishing the garden outside the front door. It melted beautifully into the tiny bits of goat mozza I have as a treat occasionally. 

A thick layer of fresh alfalfa and clover sprouts shrunk and softened as I heated the sandwich into a pile of homegrown goodness. 

Bread, cheese and onions. The only parts of the sandwich paid for by time sold to someone else. 

I thought about what has had to happen over the years for this sandwich. All the failures, and successes. The sweat, the tears, the mud, so many nights when all I wanted to do was give up because after all can’t we just buy food from the groceries store? 

In our case, no. The food is unreliable. The ferry gets canceled. The shelves go bare. That’s not why we grow our own food but it certainly makes it easier not to quit when it’s rained for two years and the puddles in the garden are taller than my boots. 

The sandwich that now so seems simple separated from all the complications of seven years worth of strife. 

I bite into it. The perfect flavor and crunch. The perfect comfort of hot melty goodness for a day spent on the couch covered in floppy cat. With my belly full of hopes and dreams I allowed myself to find even more inspiration in my food. 

The seeds for the 2023 garden came in the mail today, along with the first of the mushroom kits. Golden oyster mushrooms. I can hardly wait. 

After reading the instructions twice and carefully sterilizing everything I cut the X in the bag provided. The rich substrate made of sterilized hard wood chips and organic wheat bran smelled of the most delicious nutritious soil. Brent and I were both excited to see the white webbing of mycelium woven into the dark substance forming the symbiotic relationship fungus is famous for. 

I misted the small humidity tent and tucked it into the perfect spot in the bathroom jungle where it will have just the right amount of light and just the right amount of heat. 

Pea shoots are one of the only DOA rich foods and I found them to be one of the more helpful things for my strange histamine issues. The are however $7 or more a handful. That’s 20 minutes of my work day’s wages, not to mention that every handful comes in a very hard to reuse plastic container. So every handful of pea shoots that make my skin feel better for a day put a sizable bite in my paycheck and adds to my garbage guilt. 

So for one and a half hours worth of my time at work I bought 5 lbs of pea shoot seed in a reusable bag and this winter I’m going to get just as good at pea shoots as I am alfalfa sprouts. One species of plant and one method at a time I will figure out how I can grow my food. And if I’m patient with myself and find ways it will work for me then it can be as simple as a sandwich and I’ll get to spend more time snuggling my cats or riding my horses. 

A Voice From Beyond - Punkin's 6th Ride

 Day 3 Take 3 

October 25, 2022 

I decided to try something new with my stirrups and my pathetic attempt at twisting my fenders was nothing short of a mess.

We lunged first in the driest patch of the driveway. My visions of working on the property all winter had dissolved when the dry sandy ground turned to slick mud. Eventually the footing will come but it’s not here now and waiting for things to be perfect only means I’m cheating myself out of one more ride with what will be my last horse. 

I tacked Punkin Pie up complete with front and rear reflectors, plus reflectors on all for legs. My torso was covered with a reflective vest and my helmet was equipped with a fully charged GoPro as well as front and rear facing lights. With only 12 more days left until the dreaded daylight savings time begins, getting the “Christmas Tree Costume” in place is going to be a saving grace when our rides start and end in the dark. 

We lunged for a bit first, and in hindsight probably not long enough.

Tying my 14 foot natural horsemanship lead line into a set of reins on her cushy padded halter, I took her over to the mounting block. She was fidgety and not altogether sure if today this whole mom on top thing was a good idea. 

The mess of stirrups was way too much of a mess to use. I couldn't even get my feet into them, probably because on top of the mess I had made I had also made them too long. 

I thought about getting off. She was hot. Really hot. Still responsive and soft in my hands but it was definitely time to take my 14.2 hand high fire breathing dragon out for some exercise. Screw the stirrups.

Remembering how my tight thighs had rubbed her during one of our last rides I focused on relaxing my inner thighs, stretching down through my legs and holding with my lower pelvic muscles. I sat up straight and relaxed my shoulders so as not to put any undesirable pressure on my very green horse. 

I managed to talk the dead feeling spot in my pelvic floor into engaging. I couldn't feel a thing but suddenly I was stable. 

Punkin on the other hand wasn’t too sure about all this and really needed some grass to calm her tummy. Grass, especially the fiber rich not-so-sweet grass that grows on Haida Gwaii, has a way of making horse tummies feel better when the world gets a little scary. Today was scary, not only was mom wobbling about on her back while messed up stirrups touched her delicate tummy, it was starting to get dark. 

I asked her to pick up her head and keep moving forward, which she did delectably at first and then with gusto. Her power feels amazing underneath me and yet she remains so light in my hands with just a squishy halter and big fat lead rope for a bridle and reins. 

It felt like she was asking a lot for snacks tonight. For a moment I felt myself get discouraged. Then, clear as a bell from somewhere unimaginably far away I heard a voice “Look at what you are doing!” 

I took myself out of the moment I was in almost as though I had popped out of the saddle into a type of out of body experience. 40 years of riding experiences flashed before my eyes and I saw with perspective exactly what I was doing. I was riding my very green horse, on a loose rein, with nothing but a halter and lead rope for a bridle, down the road as it was getting dark with no stirrups. 

Suddenly I was filled with gratitude. All the work, all the preparation, all the tiny steps I had taken when I felt like I was getting nowhere had gotten me so much farther ahead than I had ever been before.

*****

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The Marathon and The Clock

 Day 19, Take 2 

October 2, 2022

Another day of body forced shut down. I tried to take it in stride but it was beautiful outside and it could be the last sunny day I see for years. My poor husband tried his very best to help me wrap my head around the fact that I had been doing so much and needed rest. 

What he didn’t understand though was how horrible it felt to know that I had done this to myself. That I know better, and still I made the decision to add more to my plate even though I was exhausted. This was as horrible as a hangover. I could quit drinking because I hated hangovers and was frustrated by how they prevented me from doing the things that I wanted to do but why can’t I pace myself and wrap my head around the mindset that life is more of a marathon instead of a sprint? 

Having started training once for a marathon I never ran. I knew that I was going to have to start slow and work myself into running. I would run from one telephone pole to the next and then walk the next set. Starting with 3 kilometers of 50/50 walk run I went out nearly every day and worked one it. While I’m sure it took weeks the way I remember it was very soon after I was running 2 telephone poles and walking one. Then 3 to 1 and the distance started getting longer too. It was only a few months I believe before I was  able to run 10 kilometers without stopping for a break to walk. 

I worked for that. I earned the ability to do that by starting slow and being gentle on myself. This is the only time in my life that I can remember starting something slowly and being gentle on myself as I slowly stretched my ability. 

Time however is not on my side these days. The days I had in time of my life where I taught myself to run I didn’t work full time. I looked after the kids and worked part time massaging horses and grooming dogs. Many of the days I was left to my own devices and had the time to run, and look after myself. 

Work these days takes 12 hours or more of my day away from me. Leaving me with 4 hours if I want 8 hours of sleep. That’s barely enough time to do chores, cook, eat dinner and shower. Let alone train a young horse, keep an old pony going, grow a garden, write, and stay fit. 

Time management is something I often think I have a handle on but from the feedback I have received at work I’m beginning to think that I have tricked myself into this belief. Time management might just be the first piece of the puzzle I need to snap into my reality if I’m going to get to enjoy my horses before they get too old, and live off my land before I retire and sell it because I got too old. 

*****

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Preparing To Brave The Next Flood Of Life

 Day 15 Take 2 

September 28, 2022 

I find myself getting ready to expand my horizons yet again and continue my education a little farther. This training thankfully is a short training and should expand me a fair bit in a short period of time. 

Getting prepared to brave the next flood of life involves finding a photo of myself and writing an introduction. The introduction is not the problem. The photo on the other hand is a bit of a challenge. 

I’m not a fan of photographing humans and I’m not an exception. I do keep photographs of my favorite humans for the sake of memories. The honest stories told by the faces of children are a pleasure to photograph but when it comes to posing for a camera, especially my own I find it utterly ridiculous. This is why many of the pictures of me involve such props as excessive glitter, flying pics onesies, goofy safety glasses, rainbow mermaid pants or my person favorite excessive amounts of dirt. 

In the process of finding a suitable picture to go with the story I will be telling in my introduction I had to flip through a few years of pictures. To my amazement I had taken some before pictures from before I gave up all those times ago. The amount in which my body has changed since I have embraced a rest based lifestyle is amazing. I have been missing my rest based lifestyle and 15 minute workouts those days.

Making the commitment to get fitter and fix my diet has made a world of difference. It’s been at least 4 years since I could even dream about being capable of doing the things I’m doing now.

18 hours a day I’ve been working for 15 days now. Yesterday I did not sit between the hours of 5:15 pm and midnight. Coming home tonight I jumped in my truck and trailer and like I hadn’t missed a day in the past two years I backed that truck and trailer right up the driveway and to the air compressor to pump up the one flat tire. 

The rust had eaten away at so many of the non essential elements of the trailer. The fenders are in rough shape and this made me check the frame once again. 

It’s still good. This up and coming vet appointment is raising my cortisol levels more than I care to admit. 

Tire was pumped up and ready to roll. Fresh shaving and a hay net placed into the trailer ready for to provide road trip snacks. 

I grabbed Tonka and put him in the trailer. He was a little antsy but he’s a good enough boy to tie so I left him tied and went off to get Punky.. We got two feet in today. 

The smell of smoking salmon filled the air. There was fish to process. Tomorrow is a new day and I will take my tiny win. 

*** Photo Credit Kim Madore on my first ever ride to the Psuada shipwreck. Kim, if your're reading this thank you for taking the picture I will be using in the training intro I have to submit tonight. 

*****

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Smokies First Salmon Run

 Day 12, Take 2 

September 25 , 2022

It was a day of rest and reflections. Tucked up on the couch Bandit, one of our 10 month old tabby kittens, kept me on the couch and made sure I rested. 

I thought about priorities and how often I forget to put myself on that list. Thinking only of what I need to get done to make myself happy with my accomplishments. 

Without a strong and healthy body however I won’t be able to keep up with the challenges of keeping my mind happy.

Day 13, Take 2 

September 26, 2022 

The morning started off feeling like I needed a lot more time in bed.

Packing the horses buckets out to their shelters my arms grew weaker and began the familiar burn of what I’ve been calling my “muscle reaction” for lack of a better word. 

How does one go from so strong to so weak overnight?! 

Then I remembered I had been experimenting with plant proteins again and that also seems to land me in this position. Maybe one day I’ll learn…. 

The fish people came today and left us with 15, ten pound coho salmon. There went my nice easy evening. 

The fish came fresh from the Yakoun River, a few kilometers from the house. 

Salmon is a staple in the pantry, the culture and the life cycle or many parts of the Pacific NorthWest. The ritual of the salmon spawn feels so incredibly natural and right here on Haida Gwaii with it’s rugged wild nature. It just is a part of life, it brings life to the shores of our communities and through the death of the salmon everyone is fed. The bears, the eagle, the sea lions, the orca (killer whales) the crab, the soil and yes the humans too. 

Today was Smokies best day ever. She watched in complete amazement as Brent and I processed our years worth of fish. The whole 2 hours of butchering she watched, hypnotized by the process of us processing food. Food she thought was extra special. 

I cleaned up the kitchen and she was right there helping. Watching every jar get packed, every bag marinated for the smoker and every vacuum sealed filet go into the freezer.

*****

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The Twisted Road of Time - A tale about ADHD

 Day 8 Take 2 

September 21, 2022

The alarm went off at 6:00 am just like it does every weekday, but for some reason I couldn't figure out what that sound was. Finally I realized it was the alarm and I had to wake. The morning right from the start had happened to me instead of with me, as if I had fallen off the horse of time and was being dragged by my foot in the saddle kicking and screaming all the way into the day. 

It wasn't until recently that I found much pleasure in the drive from Port Clements to Masset. The winding road is a corridor through the forest from the edge of the small mountains that Port Clements rests in, and the Pacific Ocean where Masset lives on its shores.

In part of the tree corridor there was an almost white mist that hung in a thin layer over tops of trees. As if I giant spider had woven a web in tall trees like it was grass and dew had collected on it over night now catching the morning sun. 

I thought about how big the spider would have to be to weave a web in the trees that are taller than most buildings on our island. Then I was thankful that there are no such spiders and that this was a mist and not a web. 

The twisting of the road continued, all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. I was terrible company this morning and wished I could have been a little more human for my husband this morning, after all it was his birthday.

The new patch of mist wove its way around the tree tops. Loosely ambling around the forest canopy. It caressed the top of the hill as we climbed into it. And just like we drove in, we drove out to another section of blue sky. 

I stared vacantly out the window, hoping that I will wake up and function before it was tie to go home for work. I had been able to get my brain working by about 9:00 am before leaving for holidays. Now it wasn’t ready to do anything until 7pm. I had been left in the wild of my imagination for over 2 weeks and came back rather useless. My nocturnal nature had taken over and ruined the year of hard work I put into being in a normal routine successfully. Hopefully it won’t take too long to get control of the wild nocturnal creature I would like to be and return myself to the mostly high functioning hot mess I need to be. 

The structure of work is good for my brain. 

A big struggle I have always faced with ADHD is the hyperfixation. Getting lost in everything, lying to myself about my control of time. That’s a funny thing about time. We can not control it, it is not an idea, it's an absolute law. A law that does not bend no matter how hard I try. 

The day was beautiful again, keeping the unburnt brush in my back yard nice and dry.  Knowing that I only had a small amount of time to get some land care done tonight I locked the horses in the bottom pasture. Cross fencing is such a wonderful tool. 

Having learned the secret recipe for burning Haida Gwaii wood I quickly set to work building two fires this time so that I wouldn't have to sticks across an acre saving me time. 

At first I felt guilty for not working the horses or working out again.Having a good deep think about what I was going to be doing with the land once the ground was accessible quickly cleared that. I envisioned myself and Punkin riding the various drops and corners through the forest, admiring the stunning sunsets while we played in our little backyard paradise. I daydreamed about finally having a space big enough to drive Tonka in saving his poor old legs from more miles on the pavement. 

It occurred to me tonight that making my dreams come true wasn't just about making quality space for the horses in my schedule and energy output but for making a quality space to enjoy that time spent with them as well. 

I set my timer and worked as hard as I could, clearing as much as I could for an hour, allowing me the time to go back inside and nurture the relationship with my favorite human on his birthday. And surprisingly more got done in one hour tonight than in several last night. Working with the laws of time had worked in my favor. 

\

*****

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In The Face OF Adversity

Day 32

Day 32. I can’t believe it’s day 32. I have actually stuck with a program and routine for 32 days. How exciting. 

In the beginning there were some big changes to my body. Sacrificing sleep to write however I have noticed that those changes have slowed. The sacrifice has been a worthwhile one. I have always dreamt of writing and here I am writing and the reward does not stop there. The wall that stood between my creative flow and the outside world has dissolved leaving a rushing river of confidence to do the things and make the mistakes. 

For 20 years I have been saving and collecting things for the projects. The projects that I will do one day when everything is perfect. There is no perfect time however, the only time we truly have is the time we have right now. The only choice left is what project needs to be done first, and I solved that problem too, by simply removing the other choices. 

I watched the fog roll in off the Masset inlet this morning, wrapping itself around the tops of the trees and caressing the land. It was a beautiful white fog. The kind you know is going to burn off into a beautiful day of autumn sunshine. 

I didn’t see much of the world today. Most of it was spent in my house. 

What I did see however was a wonderful delight. 

I saw birds flying in the bright blue sky. I saw cute puffy clouds rolling past treetops. And I saw Punkin and Tonka learn to groom each other despite their size difference. At first I thought it must be an accident. Then I looked closely and I could see that Punkin had gotten herself into the ditch and Tonka had found a little hill to stand on. 

They seemed quite pleased with themselves and their new arrangement. Fully invested in the mutual grooming that is so important to horses. Tonka was finally able to itch that spot that she couldn't reach and he really enjoyed a little attention from her as well. 

Tonka had been a big part of raising Punkin from a foal. They were once very similar in size and have always been the best of playmates. Then like all children do, she had to go and grow up. Her attitude become far too serious for a little pony who just wanted to play. 

So often I would look out the window to catch a glimpse of him biting at her face while she’s trying to relax. Sometimes he runs past her and bites her legs on the way. 28 years young this year and he never ceases to amaze me. 

Seeing the two of them working together to overcome their diversity for the benefit of both of them warmed my heart and calmed my soul on a day that very much started out in need of calming. 

*****

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Cyndi

 

Through The Fog

 Day 31

The sun slipped behind the tops of the trees and shone through the fog in the window. Years before we bought the house the seal on the window broke, leaving it to fill with condensation. 

Normally I dislike this window. We have tried to have it changed but the one person who did install windows here on the island passed away a few years back, leaving no one to fill his boots.This is normal on Haida Gwaii but as I watch the rest of the word through the hole in the mist that separates our word from the rest of the world, I see that everywhere is heading in this direction. 

The sun sets through this window every fall. It’s golden rays turning the broken fogged up window into a wonder of beauty. Every angle I approach the window from shows a different masterpiece. Every minute the sun sinks it paints the fog in coloured light. 

I think back on the day and the fog that filled my mind. Like the window there were moments where light shone through creating beauty through the cracks and smears. 

I wasn't at all a bad day. It was a great day, but even great days can be stressful. 

I could feel my body swelling. As if filling up with water I got puffier and puffier. My mind listed everything I had eaten that day……. Nothing new. Nothing I react to. 

I let myself be a mystery and I continued trying to relax. There was no relax today. 

Even on days that are fast and furious I manage to find a way to relax and my body does not puff. Today was calm, peaceful, nice really. There was no need for the intense focus and the adrenaline I have grown so fond of. The paperwork was not exhilarating. There was nothing to race the clock with and no big achievement to be had. 

My mind didn’t even wander. It simply stopped. Conversations halfway through just stopped. Thoughts just stopped. Words stopped. As if I was frozen but time was not. Time, who had yesterday been a worthy opponent had today become an inescapable prison. Still moving too fast. 

The day ended and I watched the memories of it slide into the darkness like I had watched the sun slip behind the trees. Taking a moment to look from all angles at the little bits of light that shone through. Every picture shows a new piece of fog and how it came to be, all becoming pieces of a puzzle. The puzzle that solves the mystery of what happened to me today.

*****

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The Lost and Lonely Garden

 Day 30 

“It’s going to last until the middle of October”, she said with a confidence I thought wasn’t possible when talking about the weather. Especially good weather. But this morning as I made my way into work, I saw the rain clouds, spent of their moisture, peeling back away from the landscape to reveal the blue sky. 

She’s right, I thought. Maybe it will last until the middle of October. What a thought! I might get some more daylight horse time in yet. 

There won’t be any horse  stuff in my world for a few weeks and already I can feel my body aching to be with the horses and moving with the horses.

Yesterday’s fall was barely noticeable this morning aside from a few surprise ouches throughout the day. There’s some bruising to my backside and a little to my arms and hands. The biggest bruise of all though was definitely my feelings. It’s funny how that works isn’t it?

Work went swimmingly today. I got to focus hard on my priorities and tune out the world around me.The clock again became my opponent. Time ticked by quickly but my fingers, getting so much faster now that I write every night, licked across the keyboard faster than Father Time could tick the clock. Today I won the race against time to complete the tasks and tomorrow I will challenge the clock once again to another race only this time with scanning. 

My breaks have become so much fun now that I have felt comfortable enough to use them for what makes me tick. Finding pretty things to make photographic art and tell stories about has turned my breaks into a 15 minute adventure that happens twice a day. 

Today I walked through a lonely and forgotten, beautiful little garden. I was led there by the gold tipping the edges of two cedar trees. The more I looked the more I saw small statues, weathered with the winds and rains of Haida Gwaii winters. 

I started to play with the camera and make believe stories started to come to light. I started thinking about putting together a story told by the old Buddhist monk about a lost garden and its people. The story carried me into a magic land while I walked around the garden exploring under the overgrown ground cover. 

Phase 2 Exercise 1 happened today. I missed working out and it felt really good to have someone remind me which muscles I don’t work in my lifestyle. I have dialed it back a little so that on days my lifestyle is extra active or physically demanding I don’t workout. Then I have a rest day and carry on as planned the day after that. 

You see there’s this horrible beasty that’s been following me around for years called the Over-Do-It monster. It hides in places and takes advantage of my confidence and catches me in moments of naivety. The biggest and most powerful weapon I have found effective from Over-Do-It monster assaults is learning to implement the word and idea “No”. This usually means saying no to myself, which is never easy. Slowly but surely the balance will become easy and everything will get done.

***** 

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Cyndi 

Dog Grooming Day

Day 28 

To say today was a calamity of chaos would be an understatement. How I managed to be reasonably together by the end of it all I don’t know. 

Born and raised in a dog grooming shop I had acquired the skills of a groomer quite young. Also having my first born quite young I was taught how to turn those skills into a business. 

Never wanting to be a groomer when I grew up the fact remains that there are a small handful of people I still can not say no to. Thankfully I have two lovely apprentices, one of which has opened her own little dog grooming shop as a homeschool project. 

I have always been notorious for being a “time optimist” a friend once called it. It's when one believes that you can do so much more with one’s time than is actually possible. 

Thinking we would be alright I chose to bring in the amount of dogs that we could do in a perfect world. The world we live in is not perfect and disaster soon started to unfold. 

It was an “exercise more, eat less” day I have recently learned to call them. Which was fine with me because yesterday was definitely an “exercise less, eat more” day. This whole idea of toggles is a lovely one. Kinda like keeping the metabolic scales in balance. Maybe if I can keep those scales in balance then my bathroom scale will be a little kinder to me. 

Our house sitter is coming Thursday and the need to have things as perfect as possible for her is an ever looming presence. The dirt I have been so good at ignoring since the last time we had company is now calling my attention with alarm bells. 

There will be no more horsing around this week, and that's okay because the world is wet and rainy right now anyway. 

I finally sat down and looked at my phone for the first time all afternoon. To my surprise there was my dear friend, looking for her lost sister. 

My friend called and I spoke with her on the phone. She said the purse of her sister with all her identification was still in her house where she was last seen early Thursday morning.

My heart sank. 

*****

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Cyndi