Signs.

I  realize that I probably put way too much faith in signs. But really,  I have several ways of knowing whether I should head out the door or whether I should go back to bed and pull the covers over my head.

 For instance, a morning when I awaken a little late and in which I am in the bathroom and both the alarm on my phone and the tea kettle whistling starts my day with a note of panic along with Casper, my devil dog, barking like a maniac outside can be considered a definite sign.  A morning like that can go either way but I know that my day will not be dull.  If my day starts like that, I will put even more stock on my next, more reliable indicator of the tone of my day: Dolly Llama.  On mornings that Dolly is frisky and happy and following me around with her ears up, I know that the day will be full of internal sunshine, happiness, and good luck.  But on Dolly Llama dark days - those days on which she stares at me with those dark llama eyes, with her ears pulled back, and I can hear her dredging up spit from the bottom of her throat......well, I just know that my day is going to be less than stellar.  Interestingly enough, even though Dolly hacks up spit, she only blows air at me (when she's in the mood).  She has never actually spit any thing at me unlike the spit she has hurled at both my husband and my youngest son.

On days that I get up late and both my phone alarm, the kindle alarm, and the alarm on my kindle are screaming for attention along with Casper barking his head off while I am in the bathroom  and while the tea kettle whistles away and then Dolly is in an ugly mood.....well, those days I just go back to bed and not even bother.  

Dinner conversations

I worry sometimes.  I can't remember names, can't remember to grab my lunch, can't remember where I put my scissors......over and over and over again.  Until tonight, I believed that my teenage daughters suffer the same malady.  They never remember when I tell them to do dishes after school, they don't remember when I tell them that if they wanted their favorite jeans washed they would need to bring them downstairs.  They don't remember many things.  But the conversation tonight around our dinner table indicated that this has all been a clever ruse to get out of things they would rather not do.

We were having a typical dinnertime conversation.........which morphed into a series of what-ifs (what-if the top of the soy sauce came off and it poured all over the plate) which made a natural transition into "do you remember the time that Ryan dumped an entire bottle of dressing on his salad" which then took a nasty turn into "do you remember the time you dumped the syrup all over the table" - a question posed by twin B and supported by younger brother.  Twin A quickly defended herself that it was her, that she never touched the syrup bottle.  Twin B and younger brother countered with "yes, it was her and she sat right there".  All of which is totally beside the point but what is amazing is that the syrup transgression occurred over 5 years ago!

Oh.....they are so outed.  Never again will I buy the excuse that they didn't remember.

Tears, trails, and Thanksgiving

Last weekend was an awesome weekend.  When my youngest has graduated college, I say goodbye to the work world and hit the trail.  This past weekend I spent at a beautiful lodge along the Appalachian trail learning about the necessities of long distance hiking.  Words cannot express how much I'm looking forward to hiking each and every one of those 2164 miles.  

Sunset from the Blue Ridge mountains

The lodge I stayed in over the weekend.

I needed this past weekend.  I needed it for me.  I need to realize that there will be a life for me once my kids are grown - something with which I am not dealing well.  Many, many times I've wondered who I will be once I'm not longer needed in my role as 'mom'.  So in the spirit of my dad, I'll hit the trail. He was more of a tree person than a people person. Despite being a counselor, that is true of me too.  Actually, I'm not sure if I prefer the company of trees more or if it is just the simplicity of nature.   Not that this is a new idea - I've been planning this epic hike for nearly 10 years. I'll be hiking for a week in the spring, kind of trying out gear, getting used to myself.  I may change my mind however on the hike I hike.  The AT may not be the one for me.....there are some lesser known trails in this country that may be more appealing to me when the time is closer. 

Morning view

The trail

 I've finally shed a few tears. I realized the other day that this will be my first Thanksgiving without my son and without my dad.  Actually my dad might be a little closer than my son who now lives in Colorado.  No hope of him coming home for the holidays.  I'm trying to find a second job to earn a few bucks so that I can go visit him.

I think it is ironic how many tears one's body can hold.  I let out a few - but when the tears come.....watch out.  In the meantime, I intend to thoroughly enjoy Thanksgiving day - I'll remember my family who are not longer with me, I'll talk to my son who is miles and miles away, and I'll be thankful for all of my family and friends who are still here.

Cease and desist.

 I've been known to worry about stuff.  Sometimes unnecessarily, sometimes not.  Sometimes when you get  news, it causes you to stop a minute and think about what is important.  I've been doing that alot yesterday.  Somewhere over the course of the past week, I read or heard someone say that as we heard and responded to Sandy's destruction last week, the insults, lies, harassment, and otherwise overload of the Presidential (and other) candidates was largely forgotten.  Mother nature had put her foot down and we were all dealing with that.  I realize that I am in the minority.  And I will vote. But really, whose lies do we believe? If my kids acted like the candidates act (he did this, he did that), I would put them in their rooms and ground them for a week.  We don't put up with this crap from our kids, why do we put up with it from adults who are trying to convince us that they are the lesser of the two evils?

I realize that these campaigns are targeted toward those of us who don't more do more indepth research into the 'better' candidate and after all, a vote for a bad reason is better than no vote at all apparently.  Seriously, we don't tolerate bullying among our kids - not at all.  But we allow bullying - paying millions of dollars for it, in fact - in our homes via the television, radio and phones?  Crazy.

Being loved.

 My husband has never bought me jewelry, he has never brought me flowers and I don't think, has ever given me a card BUT my husband has given me firewood. Lots and lots of firewood.  My husband has spent the past two weeks - including one full week of vacation and nearly all of his overtime money - installing an outdoor woodstove that heats the entire house.  Not just the living room.  He did this most all on his own with the help of his dad.

My husband has never been the romantic type. In fact, I would say that he is anti-romantic.  But in his quiet way, he manages to convey his love for me, the kids, and the animals every day.  I don't write about him much.  Mainly because he just coasts along. He's always there. Very easy to take for granted.

But a high school classmate recently lost her husband.  Which has got me thinking about how lucky I am.  And how despite the many ways he irritates me and gets on my nerves (because I am perfect, you know), I am incredibly lucky to be married to him.

He supports me in my crazy ventures.  From my goats to my AT thru-hike.  He doesn't complain too much when I spend money on running shoes, sleeping bags, chicken feed, tents........ he just simply says ok and in his own quiet way, lets me know he is there for me.

 He's a good guy, that husband of mine.

Race report.

So I don't think I ever reported on the outcome of my daughters' and my race at Shepherds University WV.  It was their very first 5K (that wasn't part of X-country).  It was freakin' cold - 26 degrees to be exact. And we slept in a tent. I never thought I would get the girls awake at 5 am so that we could be at the race bright and early.  Having had much experience of waiting for parking at races, I've learned over the years to get a really early start.

But they got up with no problem.  Well-rested no doubt because they were warm.  They were responsible for setting up the sleeping arrangements in our little tent.  I thought they had purposely arranged blankets for cushions and sleeping bags for warmth.  I found my sleeping bag the next day in the back of car.  Needless-to-say, I was cold that night.

So we got up, didn't even start a campfire, jumped into the car and set off to the University.  We arrived about 5:45.  We, and one other runner, were there waiting for the wellness center to open and for the shuttles to run.  Parking was not a worry- there were only 3 other cars in the lot.

I taught my girls that one advantage of being early (aside from the excellent parking spot) was there was no line for the restroom.  So we got all of that taken care of, got our running shorts on and set off for the start which was several blocks away.  We were thankful for this because we were able to build up warmth because it hadn't broken 30 degrees yet.  It turned out to be an absolutely gorgeous fall day - perfect for running.

All went well - there was coffee at the bag check-in.  There were a ton of runners but not so many that we felt suffocated.  And then we were off.  I ran the half-marathon - mainly because it started and ended at the same place that the girls race started/ended.  I am so glad I did.  I much prefer the half because I felt that I ran really hard but yet I was healthy enough to run the next day.  It was an awesome race.

But my girls......their first race.......came in  2nd and 3rd!!!!  Amazing!  And now they are hooked.  My runner girls and I will be racing in Virginia Beach in December.  And in Disney in 2014, Virginia Beach again in March, and who knows where else.

It's a healthy addiction.  And something to share.

Another twist.

I was looking for something else.  I found this. One of my kids must have saved this a few years ago.

I still can't believe that my dad is gone. I dream about him every night, think about him every day.

My heart is broken.  I have plans to help it mend but I don't know.

I want to be where my dad is yet I want to be here with my kids.  It is all so confusing, so frustrating, all I know is that I don't like being in this world without him.

I wish I could cry.

Someday.

For years I have wanted to hike the Appalachian Trail in its entirety.  It is something I've dreamed about - literally - something I've read about.  It is something I've done in teeny, tiny bits and pieces.......enough to say (ahem) I've been on the trail.  My time is coming.  I have a plan.

Since my dad died, I've looked at my life differently.  I've decided that while I may not be able to jump in feet first to somethings I've always wanted to do, I could at least begin the process.  Kind of like how you eat an elephant, one bite at a time.

Realistically it would be irresponsible for me to begin a thru-hike now.  I've got responsibilities to my family.  My job guarantees an education at a good university for my kids.  But I can start small by continuing weekend hikes and beginning with week long hikes.  I love the idea of being on the trail for 4-6 months but do I trust myself enough to set off on my own?  And to stay with it when I forget everything that drew me to it in the first place?

I've got to find out.  I suspect I'll be fine.  I know, however, that I've go to learn to trust: myself, my family, my friends, and in this case, the white blazes.  Physically I am as prepared as one can be years out from an epic hike.  Mentally - I could use a little work.  I'm hoping that by the time my last child has graduated from college that I have the courage to turn in my two week notice and catch a ride to Georgia.

I'll do it. I know I will.

Who's laughing now?

No pictures - I'm at a conference in Nashville and, unfortunately, did not win an ipad so I rely soley on the technology available in between sessions.

Still.

Who, seriously, is laughing now?

This question is in my mind for so many reasons.  First of all, if you haven't had the opportunity to read the comments on the online Centre Daily times site, then you should.  It is amazing the responses one may find.  And no, I don't post there.  I just read and get pissed off. 

Penn State is so much more than what the media would lead you to believe.  I've been asked umpteen times at this conference (by truly concerned colleagues), just how 'is it' at Penn State?  Seriously?  The people of Penn State are strong.  Stronger.  These 'kids' who begin school each September are excited to be here and want to start off on a fresh foot.  They - along with the rest of the Penn Staters -  are motivated to prove that Penn State is NOT synonymous with 'Sandusky'.  That Penn State is going above and beyond what needs to be done to prevent, counteract, and deal with the horrors that can be bestowed on the kids.  As all schools - all people - should.   I've been asked multiple times how "it is" at Penn State and it is NOT what the media portrays.  Not by a long shot.  The media has the power to direct our thoughts.  Whether we view a school as a villain or a victor can be at the hands of the media.  Truly honest and unbiased media coverage? Ha!  

My Penn State is the 99.99% that attends classes everyday, goes to work everyday, has a social conscience  who are parents who are proud and excited to send our kids to Penn State, we are the employees who clean Penn State, who maintain the grounds of Penn State, who advise the students.  We are the runners, the soccer players, the baseball players, we are all the athletes, academics and citizens of the county.

Please make NO mistake about the identity of Penn State.  Because. We ARE.

Boys.

 In the past thirty years, I've never been without a young child at home.  Right now my youngest is 13.  He is in that spot teetering between being my little boy (who I want him to stay) and a young man (who I know he must become).  Still.  I love that he doesn't hold back when it comes to his little nephew.  My guy still has absolutely no qualms about playing on the playground, riding bikes and just hanging out being silly with his favorite little friend.  I am so cherishing this time of being with my younger kids - the time I had with my older two kids seemed to fly by largely unappreciated because I was
always busy: finishing college, running, worrying about this, worrying about that.  I feel as if I never really enjoyed  them until they too old to enjoy being with me.    These days when I am running back and forth picking kids up and dropping them, watching football games and soon, cross country meets, going to football games and chaperoning the kids......I'm loving it.

This is a great time of life with kids!  I have my little grandson who although I really wished lived a bit closer, I can cuddle and enjoy 5-year-old stuff with.  I have my high school kids who I can watch grow into young adults and enjoy all of the things they do along the way.  I have my two oldest who I can sit back and enjoy seeing how well they've turned out - even though I think they both feel as if they are struggling right now.
It is a great time of life for me right now.  

Race of a lifetime.

So yesterday I ran the US Air Force Marathon at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base near Dayton OH.  The morning started at 7:30 am with the Star Spangled Banner followed by a flyover by the B2 Stealth Bomber.  I could have left right then and been fully thrilled with the experience.  It was simply and utterly amazing.  There was a runner standing next to me who really put it into perspective.  He was from another country and he was thrilled to tears.  He couldn't clap hard enough, he couldn't cheer loud enough. He said over and over that this could only happen in America and this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  Which made me profoundly proud and sad at the same time.

My purpose of running this race was to memorialize my dad who passed on May 22nd of this year.  I've written about his role in the military over his lifetime and it seemed as if the Air Force Marathon would be the perfect honorarium.  I raised money for a charity called Fisher House - an organization which, in a very small nutshell, provides housing for the families of military personnel who have been hospitalized.  I felt that this would be a perfect fit and a perfect ongoing charity to support in memory of my dad.  As a really nice aside, the staff and the volunteers completely made this race.  I've run in tons of races but this is by far, the most organized!  The most important factor - the port-o-potties - was so much better addressed proportionately at this marathon than at the Marine Corp Marathon.  And before you turn your nose up at the idea, simply having to answer nature's call during the race can set you back as much as a half hour.  And for the Air Force marathon, I stopped 3 times!   Mostly because the port-o-potties were there!

There were hydration stations at least every mile and a half.  Bananas, cookies, all types of things to keep the body moving for 26.2 miles.  There were bands playing music of every conceivable genre, there were volunteers cheering us on the entire time.  And at the one point where no human cheerleaders were in sight, were 3 of the largest buck I have ever seen!

I saw a replica of the Wright brothers first plane as it flew overhead at about mile 23.  I saw the plane that my dad flew.  I saw the plane that my dad flew and dropped people out of.  I half expected to see my dad somewhere on the course.  But I didn't.  I also didn't cry.  I saw a captain in the same flight suit that I remember my dad wearing and I nearly lost it then.  But I didn't.  I wish I had.  I really need to cry.

It was an amazing day yesterday.  I saw one runner with a picture of his dad on the back of his shirt - his dad was about the same age as mine and died about the same time.  I saw another runner running in memory of his very young daughter and yet another runner running in honor of a brother.  We were those people bringing up the rear of the middle of the pack.  We were there for a purpose, for the comradery of the marathon.  We are the serious runners but we are not doing it because we have any hopes of winning.  We are doing it because by stomping and running, we are trying to shake loose that part of us that will allow us to deal with, to accept, and to hopefully heal from the loss of someone we love.