What a week...

Welll, what can I say? This week suck(s)(ed). I'm on the up-swing and can write about it now with optimism in my heart ... Tuesday morning I awoke to whining pipes during my shower. An hour later, I was mopping up water in my basement; puddles under the floorboards, water spewing across the room; wet insulation and boards inside my walls. The plumber took 1/2 hour to fix it and Servicemaster will be there for weeks mopping up the mess, drying the walls, replacing insulation, and putting the pieces back together.

Yes, insurance will cover a good portion of it but there remains question about separate claims and leaky pipes and moving water heaters and toilets for repairs and how much will be covered with that... But, the bright side is that we will have a new basement for the Little Man when he arrives. New floor, new walls, new pipe, new insulation.

And the fact that my brain jumps mostly to the bright side now is quite a feat given that my propensity yesterday was to belly up (and what a belly it would be) to the bar and order a few stiff ones.

Progress, right?

Tan?

You'd think I could bring myself to write something witty, funny and interesting given all the time I've spent indoors of late. Alas, all I can do is blog about the weather (poster-child for small-talk when you have nothing else to talk about). Today we had a heat wave - it got to TWENTY. That was 30 degrees warmer than the days of late and almost FIFTY degrees warmer than some of the lows of late. I talked to an attorney in Florida two days ago and he was lamenting the cold spell - 60 degrees. I told him that was 63 degrees warmer than our weather. His response? I didn't know it still got that cold in the U.S. I told him he's had too much sun if he was serious. His response? He's losing his tan really quickly.

Wow. That's all I can say.

Imaginary Friend

Hubs and I have both been accused of having imaginary partners. I didn't meet B, Hubs' roommate until a few weeks back when I finally went to visit them in Calgary. B had to put up with me and the two dogs so he found just how real it all was. And I generally attend events and goings-on about town without Hubs because he's not around on a day-to-day basis for those day-to-day events that come up. I've had many comments about my imaginary husband. He's also not the commenting type on this blog so he is generally absent here too. But just so you all can remember or be convinced of his existence, here we are a couple weeks back in Calgary enjoying some time together. Isn't he cute?

Mopey and Dopey

The Fam is gone and I'm sad. It's inevitable and you'd think I could get accustomed to it given that Hubs routinely heads back to Calgary/school and I'm left with an empty house. But this time, I had a housefull of Family that made the house feel like Home; all cozy and well, crowded. Now, I'm left with just me and the two dogs to keep me company ... and they're moping too. I like to call them Mopey and Dopey when they're like this. Since I can't sit around and mope with the dogs cuz I have a conference to teach (YIKES) on Thursday and I have to go to work, I'll drown my sorrows in some leftover wild rice/turkey soup and sweet potatoes (that quite honestly were the best thing on our Thanksgiving table - Thanks Dave!). I do love me some Thanksgiving leftovers.(I know Hubs, it doesn't make sense, but this is me!)

I'm counting down the sleeps until Hubs gets to come home (22 sleeps to go) - I'm even making a string of paper rings so that I can tear one off each day until he gets back. That will give me and the dogs something to look forward to and maybe it'll help us all mope a little less.

The Belly

In the past three weeks, I've had significant development in The Belly. I think I've finally, as they say, popped... The Belly now has an identity of its own as it needs new clothes, moves on its own and generally demands more attention than the rest of me combined. I've had to start taking anti-heartburn meds because The Belly is squishing all my innards to the point where there's no room for normal food processing to occur. I went into work yesterday with one of my coats zipped up and had a good laugh with a co-worker when I walked in looking like the kid on A Christmas Story where he was so bundled up that he couldn't really move. I've also gotten comments from co-workers while looking at The Belly like: "Well, looks like I haven't seen you in awhile," when, in reality, its only been a week.

Last night, I was sitting quietly in bed reading my book and saw The Belly bounce under my t-shirt. I can't deny that it freaked me out. It's like watching your own body's development from an outside perspective and having no control or choice in how that happens. It's also a little like when your arm is still attached to your body but you've slept on it long enough to totally deaden the nerves and your arm flaps around like it's not connected to your body. I felt as though The Belly was taking over my body and was going to do what it wanted when it wanted ... and I guess it really is.

Maybe this is how pregnancy prepares a woman for parenthood.

Crack, errr I mean Crave

The first time I'd ever been to Calgary to visit Hubs was when we drove here (I'm visiting here now) with Amy and Rory for the weekend. We had tickets to the Neil Young concert and thought we'd make a trip of it together. For the afternoon on Saturday, we went to a hip little area of town called Kensington and discovered the most delictable, delicious little place in all of the city simply by putting our nose to the breeze and sniffing it out. Literally. We rounded a corner and VOILA, there it was; a line out the door and around the corner for just one little cupcake. Some were there for more than one cupcake but we didn't yet know the delight that was the cupcake and how much more the delight could give us if we had more than one cupcake. We were about to find out. We were, however, smart enough to figure out that it had to be good if man, woman and child would stand in line for that long just to experience Crave, the home of the famous cupcake.

Tomorrow, we plan to go to Crave again and my biggest dilemma is what to get. I no longer just go there for one cupcake. Oh no, that won't do it. I've promised these little delights to friends and family back home and I cannot disappoint. I can't imagine what it is about these delicious things that makes me come back time and again. But my suspicion is that, if labeled with the ingredients on the side of the package, the cupcake would read something like this:

Ingredients: Butter, Sugar, Chocolate, CRACK.

And then I'd know why I am destined to come back time and time again.

Cupcakes Make Everything Better

The Little Guy in my belly has been kicking regularly now. I've even detected a pattern: He kicks in the mornings to wake me up and say hello. And then he's active shortly after lunch until around 4:30. I like to feel the kicking because I know he's still in there and hasn't taken a leave of absence.

A few days ago, he didn't kick in the morning, or in the afternoon. And the next morning, on my way to Calgary to visit Hubs, I started to worry a bit because he hadn't been active for over 24 hours at that point. When I spoke with Hubs while I drove to see him, he seemed a little worried but we made the plan that if we still didn't feel anything by the next day, I would get in touch with someone about it.

A few hours later I arrived in Calgary to Hubs with open arms, and cupcakes in one hand. He had the idea that maybe a little sugar might make the Little Guy move. And he was right. I ate half the cupcake (but NOT the Crave cupcake that it really should have been... another story) and he nearly flipped right out of my belly. I've had sugar in those quantities before, but I hadn't had any for a couple days to that point and VOILA, it worked! It was a relief to feel him kick again and I've felt his little movements regularly ever since.

Lullaby for Little Man

Dragon tales and the "water is wide"
Pirate's sail and lost boys fly
Fish bite moonbeams every night
And I love you

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings
GodspeedSweet dreams

The rocket racer's all tuckered out
Superman's in pajamas on the couch
Goodnight moon, we'll find the mouse
And I love you

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings
GodspeedSweet dreams

God bless mommy and match box cars
God bless dad and thanks for the stars
God hears "Amen," wherever we are
And I love you

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings
Godspeed Godspeed Sweet dreams

by Dixie Chicks

Temporary Loss

On Tuesday morning, I took out a plastic container for my breakfast just like I do every single morning. And just like every other morning during, I cut my strawberries and then pour my yogurt over the top so that I have breakfast of yogurt, strawberries and almonds at work to enjoy while responding to emails every morning. As I poured the yogurt over the strawberries, I realized that I was pouring the yogurt over the strawberries that I'd cut into our wicker fruit basket instead of the plastic container. Luckily I didn't pour too much yogurt so I only had to clean the wicker of strawberry juice. I was shocked at how long into the process I'd gone before I realized my mistake.

Wednesday morning I put my contacts into my eyes and then decided that it was time for me to switch the once-per-month contacts that I'd worn for three months because they were blurry and cleaning overnight wasn't helping. Much to my chagrin though, my new contacts were even more blurry than the old ones even after I'd gone through the process twice of taking them out, examining them, cleaning them with saline, putting them back in to no avail. When I took them out a third time, I examined my eye and discovered the source of blurriness: I had placed the new contact ON TOP OF the old contact and was wearing two contacst in one eye.

Yesterday, I left my usual strawberry, yogurt, almond concoction (successfully constructed) and the bag of workout clothes I regularly carry with me to work sitting atop my countertop. I didn't realize any of this, of course, until I'd gotten to work and had to find some other breakfast. Returning to my office with a delicious breakfast sandwich and juice I'd purchased from the nearby local bakery, I walked in the door and dumped the entire cup of juice down myself and onto the floor in front of my office. I had to go home to change clothes and alas; my breakfast, sure enough, was sitting on the counter where I left it that morning.

I don't usually do these things. But I think this is karma for disbelieving all the pregnant ladies, friends, strangers, and experts, that I didn't believe when they insisted that a tempororay loss of brain activity was inevitable.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

There are a few thing they don't tell you about pregnancy body changes that I'm currently experiencing first hand ...
First, my teeth and gums are so sensitive. I have to buy the uber-soft toothbrushes to keep my gums from bleeding regularly. Bro-in-law DT is probably thinking I'm just scrubbing the enamel off my teeth with the pressure of brushing. But ALAS, I REALLY barely touch my gums and I could choke on the blood that results - nice visual, isn't it?
Second, I'm sensitive to COTTON - 100% cotton shirt that turned my neck and back red as the color of the shirt. Luckily the irritation goes away but it happens almost every morning. I think nudity should be an option during pregnancy.
Finally, I SWEAR to you that my vision is changing ... for the better. Just a few months ago (approximately 4 1/2), I had to use reading glasses to comfortably read the print on my computer. I used them to take the strain off of flipping from computer to book reading. This meant that I wore contacts AND reading glasses for the whole day. Now, I don't need them. Done. No strain. No squinting. I told the eye doc about this and he acknowledged that there could be a change in my eyes but it's very rare and changes usually occur in the health of the eyes, not the vision. Well, I'm an exception. And what does he know, he's never been preggers? I'm hoping to continue this pattern and maybe next year by this time, I won't need contacts either!

Stay Home!

In a little town that seems to be experiencing an epidemic of flu, H1N1 or otherwise, I feel lucky to have been spared by sickness so far. Three office co-workers were home today and many others in the hallways and across the town have been debilitated by the effects of this terrible flu. Although I extend sympathy to all those who are sick, I am so angry at the people, like the woman in the grocery store, who are in such a public place that she could single-handedly affect a good number of people. The woman was coughing to the point where she had to stop in the aisle to catch her breath because she couldn't walk without rest. She couldn't go 2 feet without coughing. I quickly moved past her and stayed out of her wake but I'm sure we had to cross paths at one point in the small grocery store. I am struggling with the logical side that says she might not have any other choice but to get food for herself. But my emotional side (which is the one that wins out more often than not nowadays), makes me angry and ready to write a letter to the editor to tell people they have to stay home and get well. This epidemic could get a lot worse and affect a lot more people if the sick don't heed the advice of the CDC and other professionals who urge people to just stay home.

Home Improvements - Go Local!

Since June, our little house at 1040 has been getting some updates. First, we started with a new roof - badly needed and gladly done. We hired a well-known roofer from right here in little ol' Helena. He was fast and good and our roof looks great. Then we got the outside painted. Again, we hired a local guy that does everything from remodel to paint to floors. He did a great job and worked hard in the middle of a few really hot days (some of the only ones we had this summer). It looks great and blends in well with our natural sorroundings. Then, DocFam spent their July 4th weekend with the Jakes' sanding and staining the deck - another much-needed and gladly spent weekend and money. The result outside has been quite an update and will add some curb appeal in the near future when we outgrow our little house with Herbie's arrival (the story of how we named our unborn child is forthcoming). The outside improvements have gone by mostly without a hitch and have been fairly easy to execute even where we did the work ourselves.

I attribute those easy times to going with local professionals or doing the work ourselves. Whenenver possible, buy local, hire local and trust the locals. They know best...

Then we moved to the inside of the house and the "fun" began. We bought new appliances. And despite our better judgment, we got them at Lowe's. For a delivery that was promised to take 1 day for the fridge and dishwasher, and, at most, 2 weeks for the fridge, we waited 3.5 for all the appliances. It doesn't seem like such a big deal but by the time we finally got the appliances, we could have had 24 appliances delivered from the locally-owned place. Time is money. So the money we saved by going to Lowe's, the big box store owned by some corporation somewhere, we could have saved in time over and over and over again. Additionally, to make matters worse, I didn't get ONE phone call from Lowe's throughout the entire 3.5 weeks. I called them, inquired, was promised a call back, never received it, was told I'd get a call when they would deliver, didn't get a call. Finally called one day and they told me I was scheduled for delivery THAT day and "would 11 a.m - 2 p.m. delivery work for you?" Thankfully it did because the next delivery was another 4 days away. Hopefully we learned our lesson.

Now we need new countertops. And because we learned our lesson, I talked with a local guy who does cement countertops that look shockingly like granite, slate, or even river rock if that's our choice. But the estimate was outside our budget and the cement, while sustainable and trendy, may not be practical for our countertops because of the uneven and ridiculously designed island in the middle of our kitchen.

Sooo, forgive me for I have sinned: I went BACK to the box-store, chain, owned by corporations far and wide, Home Depot this time. I swore I wouldn't do it, but DAMMIT, I'm weak. The cost estimate, thankfully, was similar to my first quote so the price won't be my excuse for going to Home Depot. But the convenience might be. I shouldn't be swayed by convenience cuz making the right decision isn't always the easiest. I know this. But wow, they drive a hard bargain. Everything is included and easy. Paul comes out, measures, takes out the old, puts in the new and it takes about 24 hours and VOILA. Done. Easy. NO hassle. Except that's what I thought last time with Lowe's.

Now that I've bared my soul and confessed my sins to the cyberworld. I'm reinvigorated to go to a local guy tomorrow and get another estimate. Even if it takes another day or so to get it done, it's got to be worth it. ALRIGHT, I'm gonna do it. Wish me luck. Practice what I preach, right? Here I go ... I'll post pictures when it's all said and done.

Compromising Positions

Pilates! I love it! I've been going for a few weeks now at the im=x studio in town. They offer a prenatal pilates on Mondays at noon. And I take regular pilates on Thursdays at noon as well. I feel like my core is already in better shape than when I was simply just running the hills. And I might even be able to take some labor breathing pointers from the crazy breathing techniques they use in class. The thing I love the most about the workout is that the time FLIES by for that hour. I barely think I'm getting going and I'm already done.


As I'm lying there, I often have a thought about how hilarious we must look to the passersby on the sidewalk outside. I've never really seen anyone pausing enough to take note of what's going on inside the windows in the downtown studio. But last Thursday during our class, the water cooler delivery man had to deliver during our class. He had to maneuver through the pilates machines with participants on them to get to the back of the room. Just when he reached the back of the room, I hope without knowing it, our instructor had us start the full-leg twist movement. And the delivery man had to turn around and come back through the room. We lie on our backs on the machines with our legs in the straps that provide resistance as we make circles with our legs wide apart to pull them back into a circular motion over and over again - all the while using the aforementioned breathing technique. The breathing amounts to what we've all seen as television labor breathing: LOUD, forceful breaths to focus on tightening the core.


The poor dude couldn't pass by with our legs spinning around in his way. So he was pinned to the back of the class with nowhere to go and nowhere to look but at our wide-spread legs and crotches as we made the moves. Finally, our instruction either noticed or took pity on the poor guy and asked that we stop to let him through. He looked straight ahead, eyes pinned to the door and literally RAN out the door. I couldn't help but start to laugh and with my first slipped giggle, the rest of the ladies busted out laughing too. I'm not sure who had the more embarassing moment but certainly I was amidst a bunch of ladies in the same position lying comfortable on my back. And not, like this poor guy, thrown into the middle of something unsuspecting and so foreign. We exercised our core a bit more with a few laughs and the agreed that next time we'd take pity on the delivery man and refrain from that particular move while he was in the room.

It was worth a good laugh though.

Stork Delivery Scheduled

I've been without the creativity and subjects necessary to post new entries ... until now, or until 14 weeks and 4 days ago: Hubs and I are going to be parents. Our little lemon is due to arrive by stork delivery on March 20, 2010. We are excited about the prospect of another part of our family to arrive so soon.

I've marveled at the rate at which the little lemon is growing inside of me. I keep track of it on http://www.babycenter.com/ which tells me that at 14 weeks, I can expect that the developing baby inside of me to be merely the size of a lemon. It's equally astonishing that something so small can already cause all this havoc in my life.

I've been fortunate to avoid a heavy dose of nausea. But what I lack in the Barf Department, I make up for in the Fatigue and Debilitating Headache Department. If I complained before about not being able to take a nap, I think I could compete in the Napping Olympics now. And apparently because the insanity of hormones and emotions had already set in, at one point early in my pregnancy, I recall saying to BFF that I WISHED I had even one symptom that would help convince me that I was still preggers; that the FOUR pregnancy tests I took weren't a figment of my imagination. It was that stage, knowing mothers, when you haven't yet seen the midwife to confirm, and you certainly aren't showing yet, and you haven't yet been hit with the usual undeniable signs of preggersville, where I was blissfully unaware of how I would regret actually ASKING for those symptoms. SHEESH. Perspectives change when the stork is scheduled to arrive.

Today, though, marks that day when I can officially say that I can no longer button my pants. I've employed the tactics of millions of other pregger ladies across the world that simply stop buttoning their pants. Hubs and I joked this morning about how the little lemon is protesting inside my belly against tight pants; probably even picketing with signs that say: "NO MORE TIGHT PANTS," and "MUMUs FOREVER." And although I can still fit into a number of my more forgiving pants, this day will be the day that I'll mark as the first real sign of what's to come of the belly bulge that promises to pop even more buttons in the very near future.

Just been hangin' around, doin' nothing ...

Internet, I'm still here and I think of you often ... in between thinking about:

My sister's wedding is in 16 sleeps and I'm getting uber-excited. It'll be almost as fun (I SAID ALMOST HUBS) as my own wedding except I won't have to be the center of attention. YEAH. Except when I sing out of tune. And except when I trip over my heels coming down the aisle. And except when I cry in front of the 250 people. And except when the slideshow doesn't work. And except when I dance my white ass in front of the awesome band. And except ... oh what else can go wrong?

Certainly NOT Mr. Rogers ...

Spring in MT comes with at least one bout of teasing warm weather during which I dream of warm summer nights, flip flops, brown skin and backpacking. And that bout is followed shortly thereafter by cold weather and snow, snapping the nervous system back to the reality of at least 6 more weeks of winter no matter what Mr. GH says. Yesterday was the snap back to reality.

The tempurature wasn't unbearable but the snow came down for what seemed like days and days. But in reality, there were only hours and many inches to count: 7 inches where I live. It was the kind of dump only skibums and grooming machines dream of! It stuck to the road, to the trees, to the top of my car, even to the top of my Boss' head as he walked across the street from the Capital. I would have loved every minute of it had I not experienced a panic attack about making the drive up to my house after hours of record-breaking falling snow.

I went home for lunch yesterday and had to attempt 2 times to make it home. And then I stupidly turned back around and went back to work. As I got closer and closerto work and my wipers couldn't keep up with the accumulation, I got more and more panicked about the drive back to my house after the days end, in another 4 hours and another 4 inches. I walked into my office, gathered up some work and walked right back out to my car to head home.

On the drive back to my house, I had to attempt 4 times to make it up the hill. Each time I made it a little further and then spun my tires and ended up back down the hill sliding backwards the whole way. The third and almost final time I got stuck in the middle of the hill. As I spun and rocked and spun and rocked ON A HILL, I plead with my little car to go just a liiiiiiiiiittle farther. It didn't. And while I plead and urged my little car, my neighbor walked out of his house and looked right at me in that compromising predicament. I felt a sense of relief because all I really needed was a little push to make it over that last little hump. My neighbor walked to his big fat gas-sucking ugly asstruck, backed it up, turned around and MANEUVERED AROUND MY STUCK CAR to pass and go down the hill. Didn't even pause.

I ended up back down the hill and tried one more time swearing the whole way. I think the sheer weight of my anger and frustration put more traction on the tires and I finally made it; 35 swear words later, I was at home. And two hours later, the snow stopped and the sun came out.

And it was beautiful. No thanks to my neighbor.

Year In Review Addendum

In my last post, A Year In Reivew, I did a rundown of those things that affected my life in a significant way in the past year. And I forgot one major item; potentially in the Top Two of the list: the much awaited and anticipated Baby Adrienne's Birth. She has become the highlight of a week when I get to see her. Her belly laughs could brighten the Scrooge's mood and has become my favorite sound on Earth. Unless she didn't look so much like her Papa, I would fully expect not to recognize her when I return after being gone for only a week because of the rate at which she grows. She chases people around in her walker and throws bottles of food out of the fridge because she hears the sound of the fridge door and knows that it should be the central gathering location in any room. I am working on her first word: Becky, but she seems to like to mutter Mama mamamamaaa most prevalently. The sweetest thing about Adrienne Mabel is the delight apparent in her eyes when her Mama walks in the room. I understand and share that delight so I think Adrienne Mabel is a pretty smart little one already.

A Year In Review

The One Year Update post prompted me to reflect on all the things that have happened to me in the past year; some good, some terrible. Reflection and memories have been my comfort for much of the past month and this post is no exception.

The first thing on the list of significance in my past year was surgery in early '08. I've written enough about that experience to kill a few trees if on paper, so I'll just say that the surgery and the three months of recovery marked the beginning of what would be a remarkable 2008 for me and Hubs.

In April, '08, we traveled to D.C. where Hubs was born and raised. I hadn't been back to visit Hubs' Homies. I got to see the house that holds so many memories for the Jakes'. I got to see where he went to school and the neighborhood that he terrorized. We got to see many of the good people we love; both family and friends. And I also got to visit the gravesite where Hubs' Papa is buried in Arlington. It's a beautiful regal place that has become a personal special place for me and my family.

In May, '08, just after I was able to walk without crutches or a walking cast, Hubs and I took a trip to Spain/Morocco for our honeymoon (belated). It was an amazing trip full of rest, relaxation and cultural experiences that I'll never forget. Morocco, for all the new cultural experiences and diversity we felt, will hold a comfortable and warm place in our hearts indicative of the warm and welcoming people that became friends. It was A-MA-ZING.

In June '08, Hubs left on the first year of a four year excursion into higher learning. He decided to get his PhD on a project involving pronghorn and left for eastern Montana to spend the summer. He was mostly in Malta, MT in the open fields in the midst of pronghorn he'd collared for tracking their migration and movement in the heat of the summer. He came to love the open fields and it's a good thing because he'll be spending significant time there - every summer for the next three summers...

September 1, '08, literally on the very same day, Hubs packed up his truck and headed to Calgary, AB for school and my littlest sister, CDoc packed up her car and moved in with me in our little house on Strawberry Drive. Hubs will spend the first two years doing coursework for his PhD at the University of Calgary renting an apartment just like good ol' college days ... except that he's way more busy and drinks a lot less. He spends some time in the field as well and loves every minute of it ... when I remind him that despite that he's too busy to breathe, it's better than sitting at his old desk in his old cubicle working for his old boss no matter how out of breath he might be. The pics here are Hubs in the field using telemetry to find collared pronghorn, one of which is named after me (written on the collar in the picture at the right).

CDoc moved in with me after she finally decided to fulfill her dream of moving to Montana. She lived with me for September, October, November and then moved out early in December into her very first apartment by herself. Isn't it cute? It was both a time that CDoc and I got closer as friends and also got on each others' nerves as sisters - to be expected. But alas, CDoc has become one of my closest friends since her move here and she distracted me from Hubs absence most of the time. Not to mention, she became the permanent sitter for my dogs when I visit Hubs. They are more excited for her to come around than anyone else, including their Papa who is gone most the time. Thanks CDoc!

Over Memorial Day, '08, I went backpacking for the first time since my surgery. And it was just the cathartic trip I needed. I went with a group of ladies who just wanted to hike into a beautiful place, hang out, drink wine, eat huckleberries and soak in Stanley Hot Springs. It was the perfect first backpacking trip because though my foot was easily tired, I was able to make it the whole way there and back and feel good that I would be able to do more of this in the future. The season was too short for me to do anymore backpacking that summer but the trip was enough to keep me excited for Summer '09.

December '09 Hubs was home for a month over his holiday break and we hosted BOTH sides of the family in little ol' Helena, MT for only the second time in our relationship and the first was at our wedding. Our little house couldn't accommodate them all so we found places for everyone to stay, spread out across Helena in 5 houses. We drank wine, ate great food, played games and laughed until our sides hurt. Poor JDoc got sick and her fiancee DocT couldn't be there, but we carried through regardless. We finished our holiday "vacation" utterly exhausted when they all went home. Our memories will sustain us for at least another 5 years before we'll do that again.

January 17, '09, Travis Engstrom, a man who'd been in my life since I was 6 years old was killed in an avalanche near Cooke City. I've never experienced grief like I have with his passing. But it has taught me so many things already. Don't sweat the small stuff. Keep goodness in your heart for all people, no matter what they've done. Don't judge people for how they experience extreme emotion, like grief. And certainly, don't ever forget to tell the people you love how much they mean to you. Remember that the people we love may be gone, but they are with us in the beautiful cotton candy sky in the mornings, the sparkle of the ice crystals on the snow, the bright stars that are portholes for them to watch over us. And they are with us in all the things that make us marvel at how beautiful Life is. And the most important lesson: don't wait for tomorrow to start Living (with a capital L). Today might be your last - let it be beautiful.

And with that mantra to guide my days for the next year, things are looking up. I think it's going to be my Best Year Yet.

One-Year Update

Approximately one year ago, I had surgery on my right foot. This is what it looked like before the surgery.

I had a severe bunion that my fate linked me to since birth. The bone attached to my big toe was a 45 degree angle to what it was supposed to be and thus, I had bones protruding from the side of my foot since birth; my right foot worse than the left. I named my bunion Rafael and just dealt with the pain of activity for most of my life. However, in the past few years, the pain got increasingly worse and unacceptably hindered my favorite activities, running, backpacking and skiing. So, I saw a doc knowing that I'd probably end up under the knife.

Alas, on January 25, 2008, I went under the knife. They broke bones to fuse back together with screws and cut me in inexplicable places (between my toes YIKES) just to relieve the tension the skin put on my bones. I was on crutches for EIGHT WEEKS without permission to even rest my foot on the ground. Needless to say, my arms were well exercised and my left leg was STRONG. My right however, well, it was pitiful. I knew it would take months for me to get back to where I was prior to the surgery. The dimples in my upper thigh were disgusting.

I started working out slowly as I still had much pain in my right foot and leg. I could run on the treadmill but the cement was too jarring to do anything but walk. It was a long haul for me to get back on my feet again the way I had pre-surgery. But a year later and back at my usual active level, I feel better than ever. I don't know that I'd do it all over again. Maybe at some point with a little time, I'll be able to more effectively weigh the pain and frustration (for both me and Hubs) of recovery to the pain of activity before surgery. Right now the pain of recovery is most acute in my brain. But I will say that I still remember quite distinctly that I was never able to run for as long as I wanted without limping afterward. I remember (and still have) all the stained socks because of how activity would result in bloody raw skin. I remember that backpacking was a test to how much pain I could endure and for how long. And I remember how much my foot would be screaming inside those ski boots; even more so than my screaming thighs.

But that's all changed since my surgery and I'm happy to report that I am satisfied with the decision I made to go under the knife. I have many plans for these feet so I am thankful every day that they might take me places I've never gone before. They even look pretty good in strappy sandals, something I've never worn before. Thanks Dr. Hansen.

Doctor Evil

Our dog, Sasquatch (the little petite cute thing), is peeing all over the floor in mass quantities after being in the house for only 3 hours at a time. This isn't a new condition. In fact, she's been to the vet three times for the exact same thing in the past year. This time, I took her to the vet where I've taken our other dog since his name was Squishy before Hubs and I were together.

Dr. Kappas is concerned about Sasquatch's kidneys. She thinks that the original diagnosis by the evil doctor (at the other vet place) was wrong; it's not her bladder, it's her kidneys. She took blood, got an x-ray and did a urinalysis. She's sending the blood to the lab at St. Pete's hospital. She warned that it might take some time to really figure out what this is. She seemed to really want to take the time to figure it out too. Something I suspect was NOT the case with the evil doctor.

Reminds me of some of the doctors that treat women the same way ... See them, collect money, send them away with an explanation that takes a little time, only a little effort and requires expensive medication that "solves" the problem for long enough until they come back to pay more and ask more questions. We've paid for THREE of the exact same tests to tell us the exact same thing every time and four rounds of medication along with numerous bags of EXPENSIVE prescription food; ONLY to have the symptoms come back every time. Not only is this frustrating and expensive, but Sasquatch has had to live with this potentially painful condition without treatment. Needless to say, we will NEVER go back to the evil doctor.

I hope this time we'll get some real answers and Sasquatch can get some real treatment.

Sharing Memories ...

A couple weekends ago, a man that had been in my life for 22 years was killed in an avalanche; with his wife watching and his 4-month old baby waiting at home for his Papa to return. I write about this here for two reasons: 1. Writing and "talking about" this pain helps it ease in some way; and 2. To urge everyone to live life to its fullest.

I haven't been able to talk too much about this to anyone except a few close to me like my Hubs. He has been there despite his struggle to understand what I'm going through. Thank you Hubs for being there for me even if this isn't easy for you. The only other outlet for my sadness is to share memories and to write about them.

I remember riding on the pegs of Travis' lime green dirt bike when I was 8 years old. I remember playing basketball in the backyard of Travis' house when I was 10 years old and he pretended I was good at it. It was the reason I played basketball in junior high until the coach told me I was better at track and choir. I remember getting my first tape Footloose because Travis and I had watched it together and I wanted to be a dancer so I thought it would be the best way to start. I remember hating to leave Mohall where he grew up because it meant I'd have to go back to school and leave my buddy behind. We were inseparable when my family was there to visit.

I remember when Travis would visit Bismarck during the summers and we would walk through the open fields and discuss life stuff. Even at at 12 we thought we knew it all. He was my first best friend, my first crush, and later turned out to be my first husband. I learned to ski, mountain bike, scuba dive and love Montana with him.

We'd lost contact in the past 4 years and I can't believe how much I'd like to take that back. Despite all the heartache, I wouldn't take back our past; I wouldn't change a thing. Except that wish I could have shared a laugh and a beer with Travis again after all was said and done. To laugh at all the stupid things that happened along our way and just gotten back to the connection we hold through history. I'll never have that.

But I will keep his spirit alive by laughing, loving and living like today is my last day. I won't wait for the next snow, the next summer, the next vacation to just enjoy life. He was an inspiration for Living like everyone should have. He even died doing exactly what he'd have wanted to be doing.

Travis' smile was infectious, his spirit alive, and he had the capacity to love Life like no other. He is in the mountains, the rivers, the snow, the sand and everywhere we look to see good things. He'll always get first tracks where he is now and he'll never have to hike too far to get to the top of the mountain. Rest in Peace Travis Engstrom.

Meet Me At The Mitchell

I haven't yet shared a major victory because it wasn't quite finalized due to the last "ditch" efforts (pardon the pun) of the hooligans who caused this charade in the first place. But it's over now. The Landowners' Petitions for Rehearing were denied yesterday and the decision in the Montana Supreme Court is final. And we won. The people of Montana won.

The Mitchell Slough is a stream; a side-channel of the Bitterroot River. And no matter what rich landowners do to "improve" an already thriving resource, doesn't change that character. In fact, MDT can dam, people can berm, developers can bulldoze and it still doesn't change a once-"natural" stream into a ditch like some landowners in the Bitterroot tried to claim.

This is important to Montana's legacy of stream access and sharing a public resource. It's important to protect the ability of our public to use, share and love the resource so that they have a reason to conserve, preserve and protect those wild places. The landowners (who included Huey Lewis, Charles Schwab and Ken Seibel) tried to claim that they were "protecting" the resource by keeping the (unwashed) public from accessing the stream. And then they threw money at it to "improve" what an old-timer who'd been fishing there since he was 10 called a "perfect fishing hole" and what they called "a mucked up mud pot." And because of the Montana Supreme Court decision, we can continue to use, share and love the resource so that we have a reason to conserve, preserve and protect it. It's as simple as that. I saw this lawsuit as an attempt to change the legacy of Montanans who grew up loving the wild places and as a result, wanting to keep them wild.

As an example of this legacy, I learned my ethic from my Papa and Mama who took us fishing and camping every single weekend. I have fond memories of catching perch, swimming from sun-up to sun-down, drinking my first beer, falling off a cliff and into a tree and sleeping in a tent like it was my bed. The thought of losing those places to landowners who would cut off access all in the name of "improving" the resource could possibly drive me to criminal actions. Because I learned to love the places where I could be outside and enjoy the natural environment, I would dedicate my life to conserving and preserving the wild places I love.

And I submit that this case allows that conservation ethic to develop in others. The legacy of Montanans is alive and well and the "pefect fishing hole" is open to all even if someone else thinks it's a "mucked up mudpot." When the ice thaws, you will find me floating the waters of the Mitchell Slough. Meet me there.

A Question That Keeps Coming Up

I awake every morning with a pain in my left side. It's almost a stiff feeling. Not terrible most the time but this morning it seems more intense than usual. I figured it was because Hubs was home for awhile so I slept on my left side more often. But Hubs is gone now and I still awake with an inexplicable pain; as though I've overworked the muscles on my left side. And I can assure you, I haven't.

I have wondered for some time whether we need a new mattress. When I sleep almost anywhere else: hotel, friends place, parents place, ground, I have a better sleep. I have been in denial for awhile because it is not cheap or within our budget to buy a new mattress. And to figure out which one is the best is another feat I'd rather not tackle alone. It would be really great if we could just wait until Hubs gets done with school and then buy a new mattress together that we can enjoy together.

Once again, I ask: Can I make it that long?