Goat Visit

I woke up in a funk this morning, read some of the book I'm trudging through & then decided the cure for my funk was to go hold some baby goats. The woman I sold my goats to has invited me to her house several times, so I hopped in the car and took a nice long drive through the country to go visit some old friends & meet one of their new family members.

Meet baby Newton.

She got sleepy and took a quick nap.

Proud Mama Fig.

Hanging out with Fig, Newton & Trinket.

Can't pronounce the horse's name. He was sweet though & had pretty blue eyes.

Sweet Newton & my old friend, Fig.

Word on the street is that Fig is a great mom.

I stepped out of my car and this little guy, Trinket, came running towards me, full speed & right into my arms. Fig sat with me like this for a while and let me pet her. Such a great visit and definitely turned my mood around. Annabelle and Cowboy are doing well too. I just figured you'd probably rather see baby goat photos than old stinky billy goat photos.

I found hope. It was in a box of books in a stranger's closet.

I spent the afternoon yesterday helping a man clean out his closets. His wife died about two years ago, and most of what we went through today belonged to her. I was sorting through some boxes of books she was reading in the last few months of her life and opened one. On the page the book fell open to was this quote:

“Never cease loving a person, and never give up hope for him, for even the prodigal son who had fallen most low, could still be saved; the bitterest enemy and also he who was your friend could again be your friend; love that has grown cold can kindle.”

Soren Kierkegaard

I got the chills. I felt like I was meant to read that....like it was a little gift. A part of me was relieved when I read this, because I felt like it gave me permission to feel some things I've convinced myself I'm not allowed to feel anymore. A part of me also felt angry when I read this, because I have worked so hard to stop having hope, so I could let go and move forward with my life. It is extremely hard for me to give up on things, but at a certain point, having hope felt like standing still and waiting on something that I wasn't sure I even wanted anymore. Sometimes having hope felt less like a healthy choice and more like I was just being stubborn. There is a fine line between holding hope and being stubborn. This is so confusing! What I have learned is that it is much harder to give up hope than to find it. I can find it in a split second. I am an optimist, so finding the good and the hope in a situation comes as second nature to me, but I have been really struggling with this conflict the quote brought up for me.

When I read this quote more closely though, I realize it says to never give up hope for "him" not "your relationship" or "your life together." That I can do. Maybe I can learn to not have to let go of hope, but instead shift it...like how energy doesn't disappear when we die, it just gets transformed. Maybe transforming hope means I don't have to lose hope, but I can move forward at the same time.

Treating myself....

I had to get up early to go to a doctor's appointment this morning. Afterwards, I was craving a salad. Yes, a salad at 10am. There is a beautiful new Whole Foods next door to my doctor that I had been hearing about, so even though I felt like I had a whole big long list of things I should rush off to do, I listened to my body first and took some time to take care of myself. Maybe I'm getting the hang of this after all. I made a big salad and also treated myself to a superfoods drink that I really wanted to try. They weighed me at the doctor today, and I'm still hovering right at 140. I have been noticing a difference in inches though over the past week. My clothes are fitting differently and I am starting to feel better....that matters way more to me than the number on the scale, so I'm going to go ahead and call that progress!

Trivia Night

Two friends of mine from college, Meredith and Adam, just moved back to Nashville. They invited me to go to Trivia Night at Cabana. It was so great to see them again. My favorite moment of the night:

Keep in mind I'm at a table with six people. Five of us have advanced degrees in literature or writing. The sixth person is a librarian. We were amped up for the "Literature" question. The lady starts announcing it, "In Lord of the Rings..." I wish I had a recording of my table's reaction to post here. Hilarious. The full question was something like, "What does Aragorn change his name to?" We answered "Harry Potter. This is not a literature question."

The last question was something about a phone number on the TV show Full House. Four tables knew it. I think there may have been a little smart phone google searching under the table cheating from some of the other groups.

(P.S. I have no idea why the first section of this post is underlined and bold. Can't figure out how to undo it. I think I need to learn some basic blog skills.)

My favorite date I've ever been on...

...was eight years ago and only cost the price of two sandwiches and two pints of beer. I met this lad when I was 18. We have never lived in the same city, but if we had, we would have definitely dated. He visited me once. I visited him once. The last time I saw him, it was the summer of 2003 for only one day in Vermont. He had the whole day planned out. We hiked early in the morning to Lake Pleiad. He went swimming in the lake in his clothes. I watched from the rock (in the third picture). We hiked back down and got in his car, drove to get sandwiches and ate them overlooking the downtown and an old watermill. Then we went to a local brewery (Magic Hat...this was before local breweries were cool and before I had ever heard of Magic Hat). We left there and went swimming in another waterfall on our way to Lake Champlain, where he pulled a small sailboat into the water. He had asked permission to borrow someone's boat for the afternoon. We spent the day in the middle of the lake, sailing and overlooking the Adirondack Mountains. It was beautiful. Then we went to his friend's apartment, made dinner and ate on the roof of the house while the sun was setting. I remember laughing. I remember telling myself to remember that day, because it was certainly one worth remembering. I've never had anyone plan a more perfect day....or put so much care into a date. This was eight years ago. We've remained friends through email, postcards and phone calls. A few days ago I got a call from this man. Out of the blue. He is at Johns Hopkins. They found a tumor in his spinal column, and did surgery on it. He is in a lot of pain. He doesn't have many answers. It has been so many years since I have seen him, but he is one of my very favorite people. I just can't even explain how much I want to fly up there, and crawl into bed next to him and just hug him until everything is okay. Life is so messy.

I've been trying for days to scan photos of that perfect day from my silly scrapbook I made of that summer, but my scanner broke. I decided today that you don't need clear photos on this blog to get the story. Just the story of that day is the beautiful part. You get to see the photos posted here as they appear as photographs of photographs in my album. I like that more, almost. I'm going to go visit him soon. It has been far too long.

The most pleasant red light ever...

Normally, I sit at red lights behind a giant Hummer or ridiculously large SUV (with one person in it), and feel discouraged and frustrated. Sometimes it seems like very single little bit of progress I'm making by driving on waste veggie oil is being immediately undone by the car in front of me. That was not the case a few days ago when I found myself sitting at a red light behind an electric car (Nissan Leaf) for the first time I can ever remember in Nashville. It was inspiring. I wouldn't mind red lights so much if they all involved this view.

Book Report

So, I've made it through about 1/3rd of this Codependency No More book. I have felt such a wide range of emotions while reading this book...from understood and supported to ashamed and confused. I consider myself a very independent person, so it has been difficult to admit that I have been a codependent person in my marriage the last few years. Chapter four is about codependent characteristics. At first, the list of characteristics seemed to make sense. By page 6 of this chapter, I felt like the list was absurd. You are codependent if you a) have a face b) pee at least once a day c) breathe through your nose d) were born on planet Earth. Those weren't really on the list, but it felt like if a person was being truly honest with themselves, every single person would identify with many of the characteristics on the list, because some of them seem fairly universal. Does this mean we are all codependent to varying degrees?