My Mount Everest

So, I suppose everyone has a fear in life that they hope to conquer.
 It may be a fear of the water, and they hope to learn to swim, but settle to be happy with dipping in a pinky toe, or maybe it is a touch of agoraphobia, and fear public places and choose to stay in the periphery. I call these fears "Mount Everest's".
 For some people they are things that come easy, but for others, it is a paralyzing fear they wish to break, and it can become quite embarrassing, especially when it is something that is considered to many, so routine. I have a couple of fears I have to conquer, but one of my biggest ones is (please don't laugh) : drum roll please...driving on the freeway.
 It is my Mount Everest.
I can tell you the exact date it started. It started on November 18th, 2002. Before that date, I had no problems driving on the freeway, and could go anywhere I pleased, and really miss that feeling of knowing I could go anywhere I wanted, only relying on myself to take me there. Me, a set of wheels, and the open road.
I knew in my heart of hearts that day, that it was the last day I would spend on earth with my baby girl. My sixth sense had kicked in and let me know that weeks before hand, and I so badly wanted it to be wrong. I wanted to spend that day at home with Vanessa, in a comfortable place, being with her, and doing whatever I could do to make that day count. Instead, I was headed to the hospital, my mom and Vanessa in the back seat, taking her in to get a mandatory blood draw for her second open heart surgery the following day. It was the very last place I wanted to be, and the very last thing I wanted to do. I would have had a thousand needle sticks if it meant they didn't have to draw her blood that day. 
My breath started to catch as we boarded the ferry to Seattle, and I tried to self talk myself down. By then, I was having panic attacks (the really aggressive kind) on a regular basis. That day though, I had to do my best to keep it under control because I had to do this for my baby. We were in the fight for her life, and I wasn't going to let her down.
It wasn't until we hit the West Seattle bridge that I knew I was in trouble. I couldn't talk. I couldn't breathe. We were stuck in traffic. Hospital. Just get to the hospital and scream for help. Somebody will help. Help my baby. Get her well. Help me. Please. Save Her Life.
I faintly remember my mom playing with her in the back seat as I merged onto I-5 and tried to push the pedal down and my foot went numb. I couldn't feel anything. Traffic thinned, and cars zoomed forward, and I must of been moving, because I don't remember anyone honking. My heart was not pounding, but fluttering, and I saw black spots in the midst of the pavement and cars. Oh god, I'm going to pass out. On the freeway, with my baby and my mother in the back seat.
To my right I spy an exit, not our exit, but an exit.
I can't see much because the tears are building a thick dam in my eyes, I can't breathe, and my leg trembles and bounces as I try and push the pedal and barely do, and make it off the exit and off the freeway and land hard in a grassy knoll just off the exit ramp. My poor stunned mother is speechless in the backseat as I wail and let go. I cannot do this. It dawns on me to just floor it and drive as far and as fast away from the hospital and I seriously entertain the thought, but know it is the wrong thing to do. It was an extremely desperate moment, one that haunts me, and I'm afraid will never let me go.
My mom slides into the drivers seat and I move back with Vanessa and sob. I really don't want to take her to the hospital. I just want to be home, holding her on this very last day, not taking her to get a painful blood draw for the nightmare we were going to be pushed into the very next day. Just please God, give us this last day.
I stumble through the procedure, and am totally defeated. It took two tries since her fragile veins were so weak, it wasn't so easy. Traumatic for us both, I wish I could take it all away for her a million times over, and I apologize to her profusely.
We exit the hospital and I can't get behind the wheel, so my mom drives us home, and we stop and get Tully's ice cream. On the ferry we spoon it to her and she smiles and kicks her feet when the spoon gets close to her mouth, and her eyes never leave the ice cream cone.
 It was her first and only taste of ice cream.
Since that panic attack, I haven't been able to drive on the freeway. If someone drives me, I'm OK, but I can't be behind the wheel without my Dark Passenger who makes it impossible for me to think straight. It brings me right back to that day, and showers me with that ultimate desperation of wanting my daughter not to leave, of wanting to do anything, and everything to save her life, of not being able to, of that last day I spent with her, and how much I still ache for her.
The freeway doesn't scare me, it's the feelings it conjures, and I pace at the base of my Mount Everest, and look up and wonder if I will ever summit, and proudly drive that flag into the ground. I think I will feel the wind through my hair again, and grip the wheel with a confident smile, but who knows.
So, be kind to people's fears. There is usually some reason behind it. Some may share the reason, some might be too embarrassed. It has kept me back from so many things, and so many visits to people and I feel too lame to say " I don't drive on the freeway," so I usually make up some lame excuse. I do plan to summit one of these days, but it may be far off. Vanessa's death is still so close, and feels so fresh, and I have lots and lots of conditioning to do, but I will do it someday.

I will.







 My someday.



Halloween Hooters (not the kind you think)

So, when someone says the word "Hooters", there is usually one thing that comes to mind....chicken wings, right?   ; )
Around our house they mean cookies, specifically Halloween cookies. We make owl shaped cookies that look, taste, and feel like Halloween. Imagine late autumn golden light streaming through your window, woodsmoke that lingers on your significant others plaid clothing as they give you a hug 'cause you made cookies, and buttery sugar goodness wafting through your house as you pull these sweet little Halloween treats from the oven.  Painted a nice picture, eh? Well, that didn't happen at our house, but it still is fun to think about as I baked these up. Jeremy was up on two story scaffolding while I baked and Gracie didn't feel like helping until I got to the part with cashews and M&M's, so I made these by myself, enjoying the thick heat from the first fire in the wood stove while listening to the original score from the first season of "True Blood". It was very relaxing to me. Just what I needed.

These are as tasty as they look. They are not hard to make, but they do require some steps. Make these if you get a chance. Put some Halloween in your heart, and yum in your mouth. Here's how ya do it:




                                                 Halloween Hooters


                                     1 Cup packed brown sugar
    
                                    3/4 Cup butter, no substitutes

                                     1 egg

                                     1 teaspoon vanilla extract

                                     2 1/2 Cups all-purpose flour

                                     2 teaspoons baking powder

                                     1/4 teaspoon salt

                                     1 square (one ounce) unsweetened chocolate, melted

                                     1/4 teaspoon baking soda

                                      large handful of M&M's

                                      large handful of whole roasted and salted cashews




                  In a mixing bowl, cream together the brown sugar and the butter. Add the egg and the vanilla. Combine the flour, baking powder and salt in a small bowl. Add it to the creamed mixture. Remove two thirds of the dough and set it aside.  Combine the melted chocolate and the baking soda in a small bowl. Beat it into the remaining one-third of the dough to make a chocolate dough.

                    Take the doughs, and roll the dough without the chocolate into a 8-inch square on waxed paper. Shape the dough with chocolate into an 8 inch log. Place it on the edge of the white dough. Taking the ends of the waxed paper, gently roll the white dough around the chocolate dough log and pinch the seams together so it completely covers the chocolate dough. Wrap dough log and chill in the refrigerator for at least two hours.

 Go have a cup of Cider.

Unwrap chilled dough log and cut into 1/4-inch slices.

To form the owl's face, place two slices side by side on a parchment paper lined cookie sheet and press the joining seam gently together. Pinch the dough at the top of the circles to form ears. Place M&M's in the center of each circle for eyes . Place a cashew in the lower center of the face for the beak.

 Bake at 350 degrees for 9-11 minutes, or until edges are lightly browned. Cool for two minutes on the cookie sheet before removing to a wire rack. Offer to family and friends. : )

Cider pressing was also on the agenda for this crisp autumn weekend.

Hard cider. Yes, please.

So was a photo shoot with a dear life long friend of mine.

Spookieness happened too. Yesterday I turned on the light to the bathroom and not one but two lights blew out. No biggie. Then, I took my girl out to lunch and watched the kid at Zoomies punch in our order and sat down and waited...and waited...and went to the counter to see about our food and he said, "weird, it never went through, so we have to go make it." Ugh. Annoying, but a little weird. Went to the Pharmacy after that and tried make a payment and the payment system decided to go down....right then. Okay, weird. So I stayed away from computers for the rest of the day. Spooooo-ky, or not, maybe just coincidence.

Light this evening was golden, and we happened to be outside dumping a rat out of the rat trap in the hen house as a family. Cheap thrills, I'm tellin' ya. But, there was this stillness in the air, a seriousness about the fading light. Fall is here, no question.
 My heart leaps into the red and golden pile of leaves with fervor, but under it is a darkness pulling at the fringes of October. November is coming, it warns, and it's collection of heartaches and debilitating memories. I can almost hear the boots marching it's way towards us, and I shudder.
Tonight though, I closed my eyes, reached out my arms and hugged October hard. Someday, I might learn not to hate November, but not this year. And probably not the next. For now, I'll just bury my head into October's arms, and hope that the let down is easy, and I am placed gently into the arms of November without falling through like I usually do.
Crossing my fingers, but not holding my breath.

All That Glitters

October has shaped itself into a very busy month. The calendar has pen scribbles all over it, my mind is a slippery mess of purple, orange and black thoughts and I feel the rhythm of this train gathering speed and I am running, to try and keep pace. I think part of it is the impending twilight that creeps faster through my windows in the evening signalling for me to get things done sooner, while daylight is still true. An earlier evening means I get to hopefully hit the couch at a descent hour, since night boasts an early darkness, and watch The Tudors marathon on Netflix with Jeremy. No complaints here, but it means for fuller days ahead.

The traditions of autumn are in my face staring me down: Pumpkin bread baking. Halloween Trickster. Pumpkin Patch visiting. Owl Cookie baking. Firewood prep. Apple Pie baking. Pumpkin butter making. Glittering pumpkins.
What's "glittering pumpkins?" you say? 
 Oh, I'm so glad you asked! I just knew you wanted to do a craft with your children that is a guaranteed mess of all messes that includes glitter that you will find floating around the house for the next three months. : )

Grace and I have been doing this for the past three years and Jeremy moans and groans every single time.

"You're going to do that again? Are you serious?", he says.

 "Yes," I answer, "It is tradition."

It may be a hot mess, but you are rewarded with the cutest little glittery happy pumpkins to gaze upon all month long. They catch the light and sparkle plenty with their cute coats of colorful diamonds cheerfully shedding happiness all over your house. Actually, I get very paranoid about this and have taught Grace to put them in one spot in the house and never, ever touch them again. We oooh and ahhh at them, but don't touch them once they are camped out, unless she is too anxious to show someone, and they are whisked away leaving a sparkly trail for me to clean up (sigh.), but by then, once the glitter is airborne, that's it. Sparkly House. What I find amusing is random glitter in kitty fur, glitter on my car steering wheel, or when Jeremy goes to work with some glitter on his cheek and comes home that evening with it still on. He he. It is a fun project and we've glittered bigger stuff like gourds and squashes, but that just means a bigger mess, so now we just stick to baby boo's or Jack be Little's. Small pumpkin, small mess... Not.  Here's what you do:



1. Gather a handful of small pumpkins.




Or cats, whatever.



2. Prep your space. Spread newspaper down, and in a paper plate put a little mountain of glitter. I use Martha Stewart glitter which has worked very well. Set a spoon next to the plate. Brief you child about glitter, and the importance of turning your head away if you need to sneeze. From experience, that is of utmost importance.

3. Hold the pumpkin by the stem and cover the whole outside ( but not the stem) with glue. I used Martha Stewart glittering glue.

4. Once covered with glue, hold the pumpkin by the stem over your paper plate. Spoon the glitter over it while gently spinning the pumpkin around to cover the whole surface. 

 

5.Set another piece of newspaper down and put the finished glittered pumpkins there to dry overnight. Lather, rinse, repeat. : )

I do hope you might find some sparkle in your heart to try this. You may hug me, or kick me later, it depends. It is a messy, but fun craft. The scarf wearing, seeing your breath, cider sipping, crimson leaf falling, woodsmoke in the air, crunchy under your feet weather has begun. Time to settle into the traditions that make your family memories buff out to a shine. Or sparkle with glitter. Happy fall to you, everyone. ; )

Spooky is as spooky does

    I start thinking about October around the end of July. Not just a little, but a lot. I luv me, some Halloween.

I visualize the bins of Halloween decor in the attic and excitedly pre-plan how I am going to change the interior of our house into a welcoming Halloween wonderland. Recipes are dug out early and placed behind the summer recipes at my cooking station, yet are strategically placed to peek out of the back of the mess to remind me that hearty soups and fall meals are just around the corner. Halloween costumes are hunted down and bought by the middle of August, and I snoop around the pumpkin patch and try and forecast the motherlode of orange that will drip from my porch come late September.

 This year, that almost didn't happen at all. I usually treat myself and wait until the latter part of August to start my snooping and squealing over my pumpkin patch, but one foggy late July morning something caught my eye out there in what we call "the big garden" where we have our baby fruit orchard and pumpkin/corn patch. "Wasn't there a tree there just yesterday?.... I thought, as I hurriedly opened the gate that morning.  Yes, there was supposed to be a tree there, but instead, my three year old apple tree lay broken on the ground, sheared into jaggedy shards of deadened wood. My hands flew to my face and my mouth turned into a small hole that moaned a high pitched "Noooooo!!" Our ten foot fenced, barbed wire fortress of a garden had been breached. My eyes grew wider as I stumbled around the freshly hoofed earth and surveyed the damage. At least three trees gone, dead, caput. The rest nibbled to nubbins looking pathetic and helpless, and awkwardly naked. My coveted Asian pear trees...they barely had a pulse. And oh,...my sunflowers?? what sunflowers??....My sweet rows of my favorite flower ever to grow was gone. All that was left was skinny bright green legs of what was to be a tower of flowers. This is the first year in nine years that I have not had sunflowers in my garden.  My pumpkins!!  I ran to them and pulled my braids taut in anger. They were nibbled through and the small premature fruit tasted with one wide open gash. Each.one.of.them. I think I cried, but I'm not sure. I know I called Jeremy to rant and holler about how I was done, and how they win, and how "yes...fine, you can eat Bambi..." Over the years I have done a good job of discouraging Jeremy from hunting on the property but in a fit of anger I caved. Fine, do it. But I still won't eat it.
I spent the rest of the summer shooting glare daggers at deer and ignoring the patch, but still watering it, just in case a pumpkin or two magically appeared. Late September I happened in there not expecting much, and the angels sang, and the sun shined down, because there they were! Pumpkins!

 They were by no means prize winners, and smaller than normal, but still bulbous happy porch loungers. I also scored some delicata squash, two blue hubbards, some red kuri, two gold nuggets and a handful of my most favorite pumpkins ever: Baby Boo's. The harvest was about a quarter of normal but I am grateful for it. Happy for a better ending to a otherwise sad story.

My one and only pitiful little sunflower.

Baby Boo's!

Another thing happens in our household come the first of October. Ready to get spooked? Before you think I'm weird (er), or full of it, here is my disclaimer: I do have an active imagination and have been told by my mother that sometimes the lines between my imagination and reality can blur. She told me this at a young age to quell my fears of what I was sure lived in my closet, but that quote has always stuck with me, and I go to it when there is something strange or a feeling I cannot explain.
Rewind to 1995. I am standing on the deck of Jeremy and mine's apartment with Jeremy and some of our friends. It is night, and for some reason I glance over to the window that looks into our living room. We are all outside, but there is this figure near the couch, leaning to the side trying to get a look out at us. It is smallish, about three and a half to four feet or so, a thick triangle in shape with rounded corners and it is Pure black. The blackest black I've ever seen. I blink just in case it was a fleeting shadow, but it is still there, and leans even further as if it is peeking at us.  I breathe in sharply because I am not sure what to do and I open my mouth to say what, I don't know, but it sees me see it, and disappears very quickly. Did I just see that? I am scared, but don't say anything to Jeremy, 'cause it sounds crazy. A couple weeks later and we are getting ready in our bedroom, and I am sitting on our bed and I see it again. This time, it is skirting down our hallway. It goes back, and it goes forth. I tell Jeremy this time because now I'm really freaked out and he checks and sees nothing, of course. My mind remembers my mothers quote, and I realize yes, I might just be seeing things. Years go by and I don't think of it much. We move twice and there is nothing. It is a late December night in 2001, and I am eight months pregnant with Vanessa. Jeremy has gone to bed, and I am sitting on the couch watching TV. I glance out the window to the side of the TV and there it is...Peeking at me! I can barely make out the outline against the dark, but it is familiar one, and so black. This time, I am not scared, but very angry. How dare you peek at me?! While I'm pregnant!!!  I toss the blanket off my belly and rush to heave myself up. You see, mama bear was awakened, and no one  messes with mama bear, even if they are faceless, globby black weird things that my mind can't really decipher. This angry mama bear feeling is empowering and I don't see it again...except maybe when I was seven or so months pregnant with Gracie. I am awakened in the middle of the night and in the darkness there is a form standing by my side of the bed. I let out a blood curdling scream which awakens Jeremy and I go to the bathroom and cry my eyes out because I am afraid. Not so much afraid of what I was or wasn't sure I saw, but because I was just so afraid of everything at that moment. Gracie's pregnancy was incredibly emotionally painful and the tears came frequently and heavily, and that set it off. That nights fright could have been the outline of my robe hanging in the night, but I won't call that a true sighting, but a maybe. I'm just not sure.

Spookiest picture I could find. Creepy owl in our back woods.

Fast forward to this time of year about two years ago. Jeremy is in the shower, I am vacuuming downstairs. It is late evening and Grace is in her room with the door open, playing. I turn off the vacuum and hear her feet scurry fast to the bathroom where Jeremy is. I hear mumbled voices, then she scurries and practically flings herself down the stairs at me. She has seen something in her doorway, she says. She beings to describe it to me...black...faceless..tall...peeking at her.. The red pegs on my anger scale, and I thunder loudly upstairs with her since she is now afraid of her room. I have never mentioned anything to her about my "peeker." I think to myself, wildly. It is one thing to be messing with me, but with her, I am sooo ready to fight. We get up to her room, and there is of course, nothing. I dance, and sing, and tell her over an over not to be afraid, but she is. She wants to know what it was. Why it was there. I don't want to dismiss her and tell her it was nothing because she was sure she saw something so my mind whirls up a story and thus, the Halloween Trickster was born, which has now become a tradition in our house. The Halloween trickster comes around for the month of October and messes with you, but mostly hides Halloween books and little gifts randomly around the house for you to find. Over the years he has hid those Halloween books in her underwear drawer, under Dad's pillow, in her bathroom cabinet, and next to the cereal in the pantry. Sometimes he puts her pillow on the wrong end of the bed, or leaves a Tootsie roll in one of her shoes, or turns all of her jackets inside out. You never know what that silly trickster will do next. That quelled her fears and lets us have some fun with the unexplained. Over dinner tonight, I asked her about that little uninvited visit a couple years ago and she didn't remember it, so it must not have scarred her too bad. Me? I still am confused about what I saw or if maybe my mom was right...blurred lines. My sister calls me her "spooky sister" for my gravitation towards the unknown, and for dreams that have foreseen things, and for knowing things about people they haven't told me yet. Sometimes I'll mention to Jeremy "so and so is coming by today" and they will randomly show up and I will say, "see?" He would look at me and ask me how I knew and I would say "I don't know, I just....knew." Gracie might have these spidey senses too, and my sister and I have come to the conclusion that it may be caused by how both me and Grace came into this world: Not breathing and in a struggle. Both of us were being strangled by the umbilical cord. One foot in this world, one foot out. Straddling both sides. Maybe it has awakened parts of us that are meant to be asleep? I don't know. Sometimes, more frequently than not, the unexplained has to remain a mystery, yet there are so many things my mind grasps to understand...like phone calls in the middle of the night, and no one is there, not even on the caller ID...like coming into your bedroom after you've taken a shower and the VCR has been turned on and is playing, and you are the only one in the house...like black little beings that stalk you, and peek at you, and give you the creeps....
Booga Booga!!!
: )