Anne Notations

Monday, May 30, 2011


Yours truly, age 18-24 months.

That first step. Why is it so hard for me? Why do I balk?

And what is the first step when parts of my life feel frazzled and out of control? What one little deed will set me on course to achieve positive thoughts, healthy habits, productive work days? Help, help!

I know all about Just do it. I know about Live in the moment. I know about Don't put off til tomorrow what you can do today. I know It's time for you to grow up. But where do I start?

This can't go on, this tendency to be my own worst enemy. How many reality shows will I imminently be a candidate for? Biggest Loser. Hoarders: Buried Alive. It's Me or the Dog. Or maybe a new one about women who lose their mojo.

Here are two things I will do tonight.

1. Put dirty dishes in the dishwasher and clean the kitchen sink. (This counts as one item.)

2. Floss my teeth at bedtime.

Basic stuff. Baby steps. It's worked before.

Oh, one more:

3. Record here each night or morning what new task, and old ones, I manage to complete.

And I'm off! Dirty dishes, you're history. Expired mojo, watch your back.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Comme çi, comma ça

Forecast: Rosy with a 100% chance of thunderstorms.

A friend who left Facebook for a while reconnected yesterday and sent me a message: "How are you doing?" I have been pondering off and on for several hours how to answer her question. It's not so simple.

I'm doing fine, really, although I find myself once again in career limbo – wait, more like career confusion. I'd thought I was set for a year of monthly freelance paychecks, but now that arrangement is in question. I'm gearing up to renegotiate and, if necessary, resume the full-time job hunt. Oh, how I miss the relative stability of salaried employment, especially in this spooky economy.

Melinda and Kevin arrived home for the summer on May 6 and 7, respectively, and their presence lights up my home life. Yes, the house is often a mess. (How do two people generate such chaos?) Yes, my "other" job is now taking each of them for hours of on-road training as they prepare to take their driver's license tests. But they are such joys to have around, in general.

Mr. Innocent.
My little dog pack of two continues to have its ups and downs, with three terrifying fights between Daisy and Yogi since February, the most recent on Saturday as our five year old granddaughter watched. It was a far different situation, though, with Melinda and Kevin here to each grab a dog while I used the break stick to unlock their jaws, from the two previous fights when I was home alone and unable to get the dogs apart, with resulting bloodshed, surgeries, and monumental vet bills.

Daisy is the "unstable" one, and she is understandably mad at having to share her castle with the upstart Yogi and his bumptious personality and demands for our attention. She attacks; Yogi responds. I understand all the dynamics and have had to learn the hard way that I cannot let either get away with giving the other the canine "stink-eye", which can signal an imminent attack. Separate feedings, collars and leashes at all times in the house, use of the e-collar to interrupt fixations... I just need to stay vigilant. Yes, I feel sorry for Daisy, and I love the old girl dearly. But she needs to know she doesn't control who or what is in our household; her people are in charge of that. Anne: Alpha Dog. (heh)

We are having a cool, wet spring. Temperatures in the 50s this week with nary a ray of sun predicted. It helps keep me focused on my indoor work, both paid and household tasks.

Things I wonder about: My future employment. My marriage. (We're in an unprecedented phase as we live in different states and often fail to connect more than superficially on the weekends Michael makes it home. I was surprised at how unnerved I was when Michael changed his official residence to New Hampshire and came home with the corresponding license plate on his car. It's a huge tax relief, though.) Whether the dogs can ever coexist peacefully. Friends. Whether the Raconteurs will ever get back together and tour. My current religious and spiritual doldrums. Getting old. If I will ever be able to lose and keep off weight. If I will ever be able to exhale.
What I look forward to: Seeing Los Lonely Boys in Boston next month. The continued rehabilitation of my heel tendon, which I strained or bruised several weeks ago and which continues to make me limp and wince. (Enough with the ice packs already. Brrr.) The summer fireworks season here in Oakland Beach. Picking Sun Sugar tomatoes in our front garden later this summer.

See what I mean? I have nothing substantial to say, but I'm OK-ish. The view from here is sweet, and life goes on.