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June is Pet Preparedness Month

/ rachelgoes262 / Leave a comment

June is Pet Emergency Preparedness Month. If you have pets, you need to be sure that they are included in your emergency plan. Do not leave them behind. Be sure you have supplies for your pets for an emergency. Everyone should be carrier trained. 

As you may know if you follow my cats on social media, Simon was the most difficult to carrier train. When we were at the old house and a tornado stopped a mile and a half from the house, he was the only cat I could not get to the basement in time. He hid in the cupboard under the kitchen sink. He was right above the basement, but I was very worried. 

Since that tornado, I focused specifically on carrier training Simon. 

When Jude was alive, he was carrier trained. He was the first one to be carrier trained. With Jude, it was easy. He was very food motivated. I started carrier training Jude when Kitty was alive. Kitty was a senior (he passed from cancer at age 19) and ate slowly. Jude would try to steal Kitty’s food. So, I started putting Jude’s food dish in his carrier at mealtimes. He went right inside. I closed the door. I let him out once Kitty was done eating so he could not steal Kitty’s food. When Jude, wanted food, he went in his carrier. 

Jude also enjoyed touring the basement at the old house. If I opened the basement door, he would go down with me. So it was easy to get Jude in the basement for a tornado. It was easy to get Jude in a carrier if we needed to leave the house. 

Jolene was also easy. Jolene is glued to me. She follows me everywhere. She has separation anxiety when I am out of the house. That’s a story for another day. But Jolene would follow me to the basement. If I walk to her carrier, she follows me. I just pick her up and put her right in. 

Simon was the most difficult to train. When I trapped Flower, I made sure that I carrier trained her also. Flower was trained in a different way than Simon. Flower was easier to train. 

Many people have asked me how I managed to train Simon and Flower, so I will share that here. Keep in mind, that while this worked for Simon and Flower, it may not work with your cat. This is just my experience. 

Starting with Simon, let me first say that consistency is key. You literally need to practice every single day. It can take months. Since we have been in the new house, I have not been practicing with Simon, and you can tell. I have not been practicing with them because I have been trying to give them all time to decompress from the trauma we experienced with the repeated neighbor attacks and physical injuries. We lived the emergency. Now we are trying to recover from it. 

The one thing I do with all my cats is that I leave all the carriers out all of the time. This way the carriers are familiar objects in their environment. They are not scary. They do not associate them solely with vet visits. There is a comfortable blanket inside the carrier and one on top. They can go in and out of them at will. They can sit on top. They think of the carriers as part of their play space. 

If you have multiple cats, you may not have space to leave all the carriers out all the time especially if you have children and a family. In this case, leave out just one. We are fortunate that we have the space, so each cat’s carrier is out all the time. 

The cat carriers are always in the same space. They are in their feeding area. They eat in front of their carrier. This helps them become familiar with the carrier and associate it with something positive (food).

Simon is timid and shy. For him, the carrier is a scary place, even if it is a permanent fixture in his environment. For Simon, I started with the lid and door off the carrier. The only part of his carrier that was out was the bottom part. 

For a few weeks, Simon would eat his food in front of the carrier with the lid off. He was comfortable. I gradually started putting the dish closer to the carrier. Eventually, I put his food dish inside the carrier (all of this is with lid off). I went at Simon’s pace. Sometimes it was one step forward and two steps back. If I put the food dish inside the carrier and he acted scared, would not approach his food dish or enter the carrier bottom, then I took the food dish back out and put it just outside the carrier again.

This was all at Simon’s pace. Of course, it took weeks and months. You need to be consistent. It takes a lot of patience. 

Going at Simon’s pace, he finally got to the point where he was comfortable with having at least half of his body inside the bottom part of the cat carrier eating his food. I just kept putting the dish a little closer to the back part to get him to go inside. Again, this is all with the lid off.

When he finally got to the point where eating inside the bottom part of the carrier with the lid off was routine, I put the lid back on. I left the door off. Lid on, door off. This was again one step forward, two steps back.

With the lid on and the door off, I started at the beginning. I had to. Putting the lid on was scary for him. We started with eating right in front of the carrier. Slowly putting the dish closer to the carrier. Putting the dish just inside the carrier. Exact same process until he finally got to the point where his body was at least halfway in the carrier to eat. 

Once he was comfortable eating in the carrier with the lid on, I put the door back on. Repeat process. Putting the door back on was the most challenging part, but we got there. 

Once he became comfortable eating inside the carrier fully assembled, then I started closing the door behind him. Just for a little bit. Then opened to let him out. It was only for very small periods of time so he did not get stressed.

You gradually increase the time until you get to a point where he is comfortable enough in there that you can pick up the carrier with him inside and set it back down a few feet away. Let him out of the carrier. This helps him to learn that it is ok to be inside with the door closed, it is ok for someone to pick it up and move you. The door will open again, and he came right back out. We went on small “trips” from one end of the room to the other. 

Months of training paid off. The last tornado warning we had at the old house, I was able to get Simon into his carrier and take him to the basement. 

I went to the food cupboard for treats. Put the treats inside the carrier. He went inside for the treats. I shut the door and carried him to the basement. It worked.

In the new house, we have not been practicing since we are all decompressing from the abusive neighbors at the old house. However, he does still eat every meal in front of his carrier, so it is not a scary place. Sometimes he does go in there voluntarily and lays down and takes a nap. 

Carrier training them was very helpful when we had to leave the old house for the Drive to Freedom and then spent several weeks in temporary safe housing. Simon knew that his carrier was an ok place. He was not scared. 

Training Flower was different than training Simon. With Flower, I had been using treats as rewards for socialization. I would make a trail of treats to try to get her out of her safe area to come to me to interact. If she appeared for pets, she got treats. I also started using the treats to train Flower in baby sign language to give her something to do to stimulate her brain. Flower has physical disabilities so she cannot play a lot. She needed something to keep her active and interested. 

Using baby sign language and treats, Flower learned the sign for in. She learned if she went inside the carrier when I made the sign, she got treats. 

As Flower progressed in her socialization and comfort level in her home, I was trying to get her to go downstairs to be with the rest of the family in our living space instead of being by herself upstairs. 

In the mornings, I would sign in for Flower to go in her carrier. I carried her in her carrier downstairs, and she had breakfast inside her carrier with the rest of the family. Then I took her back upstairs to her safe place. Flower eventually learned that if she went into her carrier, the “magic box” would take her downstairs (or upstairs if she was already down). She learned if she went inside, she would get food. 

Flower learned to associate the carrier with positive things. As Flower has progressed with handling, I can now just pick her up and put her right in the carrier. She does not struggle or protest. It’s honestly easier to just pick her up and put her in there in the new house. She is now fine with all handling.

Even though she is carrier trained, Flower no longer goes near her carrier in the new house. In the new house, the entire first floor of this house is her territory. Her world is a lot bigger here than it was in the old house when she pretty much did a little loop between her cat bed, carrier and cat pan. 

A few times when Flower is out and about and near her carrier, I have done the sign for in. Flower sees the sign, has gone in the carrier, and get treats for remembering what to do. 

However you do it, carrier training your pets is important in case there is an emergency. Include your pets in your emergency plans. Do not leave them behind. They will not survive without you. They rely on you for so much. 

One Bear

/ rachelgoes262 / 1 Comment

When the neighbors at the old house started with their daily harassment and attacks that resulted in physical injuries to myself and the cats, I was scared. As we all know, the police did nothing. Everything was my fault because I “don’t know how to take a joke.”

Due to my fear, I sought solace in false security. I felt trapped. I was not safe in my own home. Often, I could not even leave my home because I was physically prevented from leaving by the neighbors. 

The false security I found was in stuffies. Specifically, squishmallows. To be honest, I am not quite sure how many squishmallows I had. I did get rid of a bunch as part of downsizing for the move. 

For the Ride to Freedom when we left the old house for temporary safe housing, I took one squishmallow with me for comfort. It was one of only two sentimental items I took on that initial trip that was not an essential item. 

The squishmallow I chose to take to the temporary safe housing was my pineapple. When I first bought that house in the Village of Evil, I had decorated the house with a pineapple theme because pineapples have the meaning of welcome. When I moved to the Village of Evil, I was an active participant in the community. I started the book club at the library. I had submitted a business plan to start a small business on Main St. Of course, that all stopped when the neighbor harassment started.  

Now that we are very safe in our new home, I see that I moved a total of 5 squishmallows with me. This house is very small. It is half the size of our old house. There is not any room for clutter. Five stuffed animals for one person is ridiculous. I am only counting stuffed animals solely for me. I am not counting the little lamb chops that the cats have and like to snuggle with. I’m not counting the beanie babies the girls have (they each have one) or the giant stuffed mouse that Jolene takes all over the house. 

As much as I like the squishmallows, I decided they need to leave. They are clutter I don’t need in a small house. They have bad memories attached to them. I was using them for false security when I was terrified in my own house because the neighbors at the old house threatened my life and attempted to burn the house down. 

I will be donating all five squishmallows I have in this house. May they bring some child joy and happy memories. They served their purpose. That pineapple was a comfort when we were in temporary safe housing. It was something that helped life feel normal in the chaos. 

Now that we are living in a very safe place, I don’t need false security. We have real security and it is priceless. 

However, I did decide that I want a comfort item. I thought about keeping just one of the squishmallows and getting rid of the other four so that would reduce the clutter and the bad memories. However, I realized that whichever one I kept would still have those memories and that I wanted something new. I wanted a teddy bear. 

I was just going to try to find a teddy bear for $5 or $10 at the store. However, many teddy bears today either have ribbons or bows or wear clothes. I am very particular about teddy bears. I like them to be naked. That is probably why I was so drawn to squishmallows. They are soft stuffies who do not have bows or clothes attached to them. 

Somehow, on the internet, I happened to see a Bartholomew bear and started doing some research on it. They are very popular. They are naked. They are soft. 

I hesitated for a long time due to the expense. Those bears are very expensive. But the more I looked … it is very hard to find a naked teddy bear that was soft. People on the internet rave about the Bartholomew bears. They have some sort of following. 

So I decided to spring for the medium size bear. 

I do not like the name Bartholomew, maybe because of the association with Bart Simpson. I don’t know. I just don’t like the name. 

My bear’s name is Mabel.

Here are my thoughts on this one bear that now graces my life as my sole stuffie for a comfort item.

First, it took forever to arrive. I thought it would take 3-5 days like most things I ordered. No. It took almost 3 weeks to get here. Honestly, by the time it arrived, I felt like I was over it. I wasn’t excited any more. I’m like, oh, the bear is here. 

Upon opening the package, I see the damn thing came from London. No wonder it took so long to get here! It came from another country! I thought when I was on the web site, it said USA. I had no idea. I guess I need to be more careful when I am shopping online. Luckily, this item is a legitimate purchase from a reputable company. 

Second, when I opened the package, the bear was much smaller than I thought it would be for the price. I guess I didn’t understand the measurements and the sizing very well. I purchased medium size because it seemed affordable for what they were selling. 

Now that Mabel has been here a few days, I can tell you I am delighted with my bear. My thoughts were unfounded. Yes, the bear is smaller than I expected, but it is the perfect size for my needs. In fact, I am impressed with its size. It meets my needs and is small enough that it would be very easy to pack in a backpack if I decided to take it someplace with me. This bear is much easier to transport than moving with 5 squishmallows that took up a large trash bag. 

When I slept with Mabel, I found she is the perfect size to cuddle. She is not too small. She is very soft. I am also impressed that when I hug the bear, her arm drapes over mine like she is hugging me back. She stays put in bed with me. She is not big and rolly like a squishmallow that would either roll out of bed or not leave enough room for the cats.  She does not take up a lot of space like a squishmallow. Last night I had all 3 cats and the bear in bed with me, and everyone was comfortable. 

I am very pleased with the choice to have Mabel the Bear as my one comfort item moving forward. If I do travel in the future, she will be much easier to take with me than a squishmallow. 

In the new house, we have real security. We are safe here. It is a relief. I am so happy. The cats are happy. But occasionally, you want a comfort item. Whether it’s’ bad news or a bad day, sometimes you just want something soft. Yes, I have the cats. But they are all living beings with minds of their own. Sometimes they don’t want to cuddle when I want to cuddle. 

I am very happy with Mabel as my one bear, sole stuffie and comfort item. 

Do you have a comfort item? How many comfort items? Any other Bartholomew Bear fans out there want to share their thoughts on the medium bear? 

Yellow House in the North Country: Thanksgiving

/ rachelgoes262 / Leave a comment

My time off from work has all been used due to the neighbor abuse we experienced at the old house plus the move to escape that dangerous situation. There were many days that the neighbors prevented me from working. Not only did I have to use all my vacation time, but I had to take unpaid time off from work too. The harassment at work from the bad neighbors at the old house was so severe, it put my job in jeopardy. 

Thankfully, that is behind us now. We were able to leave the house where we were harassed daily and the neighbor’s attempted arson. However, there is still fallout from those events. Part of that fallout is that I had to work Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and the Saturday after Thanksgiving trying to make up time. 

Surprisingly, I did have a few invitations to Thanksgiving in our new location. I had to turn them down due to working and due to covid. N95 respirators only work to prevent covid if they are worn on your face properly. 

The neighbor right next to me – the first one to come over and introduce herself when we moved in – brought me a plate of food. I was so grateful that she was kind enough to think of me.

To be honest, I was feeling a little down about Thanksgiving. Even though we are safe in a new home, it just doesn’t feel like the holidays this year. It’s hard learning a new area after being forced out of an area I lived in and knew for 25 years. That is the reality of what happened – we were bullied and harassed out of an area we knew. Our lives were threatened. We are starting over somewhere new.

My favorite Thanksgiving movie is Pieces of April with Katie Holmes. There is a scene in the movie where she explains the meaning of Thanksgiving to her neighbors who do not speak English. To paraphrase, she explained that there was this one time when people just realized that they needed each other, and they came together due to that need. 

It was the plate of food that neighbor brought me and the kindness of another neighbor in the days after Thanksgiving that finally helped me to feel the true meaning of the holiday this year. 

When we lived 3 hours south in the old house, I used to say we would get nickel and dimed with snow – half an inch here, half an inch there. It was just enough snow to be annoying, but not enough to really plow or shovel or cause problems.

Here in the North Country, you get your money’s worth of snow and then some. To be honest, I am having culture shock with the snow up here and it is only December. I wonder if I am hardy enough to live in the North Country with the winters here. 

Yes, I’ve always said I wanted to live up here when I retired. Honestly, I had a very romanticized idea of what that would look like. I did not factor in the reality of three senior cats and being completely alone because we fled an abuse situation. 

We have been getting about 7-8 inches of snow every other day since Thanksgiving. There are constant winter weather warnings and travel advisories. The roads have been closed once already. It’s snowing right now, and when I went out to shovel, there is at least 3 feet of snow out front. I’m not exaggerating.

My weight is still low due to health issues I have been having the past year due to the neighbor abuse at the old house. I’m under 90 pounds, unintentionally. There is no way I can handle a snowblower.

For weeks, I have been calling every single ad I see for snowplowing. I have asked all the neighbors and everyone I see, from the librarian to the postmaster, for recommendations for snowplowing.

I call and leave messages. I name drop, saying “this person told me to call you.” No one calls me back. 

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, someone answered their phone. I told them I saw their ad in our local flier for snowplowing and would like an estimate. He told me, “I don’t go to that town.” You have an ad in our local flier advertising snowplowing for this town, and you don’t come here? Well, thank you for answering the phone at least. I have left dozens of messages, and no one calls me back.

Knowing I cannot handle a snowblower, I did get an electric shovel. It weighs 20 pounds. I know I can handle it. My thought was that it is like a mini show blower. If I keep up on the snow it will be fine.

How very wrong I was.

That first big snowfall on Thanksgiving, I went outside after work. I can only shovel twice a day – before work and after work. By the time I got outside after work, there was already way too much snow for the electric shovel to handle. 

The neighbor across the street saw me struggling with the electric snow shovel. He came over and used his snowblower and cleared my driveway for me. He explained that he is retired, but his wife still works, so he keeps their drive clean. He used to help the woman who lived in this house before me (she passed away). 

Now he is helping me too.

I offered to pay him. He refused. At least let me give you gas money, that machine costs money in gas. He refused. 

His kindness has helped me feel Thanksgiving in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time. As it was said in Pieces of April, there was a time when people needed each other. 

I still need to figure out something kind to do for him for helping me. Even though he is helping me with the snowblower, I am still going out twice a day to shovel (unless he beats me to it with the snowblower.)

Having his help with the snow in the driveway and front has freed me up to be sure that my back deck is shoveled. I know to keep the snow off that due to the weight of snow. So I am shoveling the back deck when the neighbor helps me with the driveway.

Words cannot express how grateful I am for the help.

Even though I had to work on the actual holiday, our first Thanksgiving in the North Country is one for the records books. I am so thankful for kind neighbors. Even if they did not help me with snow and remember me on the holiday, just the fact that we are safe here and our lives are not in danger is the greatest gift. 

We are getting more snow now. It’s only December. We have 3 feet of snow. I’m sick of it. It’s going to be a long winter. I’m struggling to get the car out. I’m struggling to get my mail. I’m struggling to get to the grocery store, the vet office, and anywhere else we need. 

Even though I am struggling with winter, I am grateful that we are safe. We are together. We have neighbors who are not actively trying to murder us (truly, that is what the old neighbors did – they tried to murder us with the arson and other physical injuries they caused). 

We are forced to learn a brand-new area because we had to escape an abuse situation. This is the hardest thing I have ever done. Yet I’m grateful we are together and safe. 

Last year I had to deal with the 20-year-old child across the street having some sort of drug induced psychosis and driving his truck into the bushes and front porch of my house. 

This year, we are in a place where neighbors bring me a plate of food and help me with snow. 

Happy Thanksgiving from the Yellow House in the North Country. 

We are hoping the Yellow House in the North Country will be a new series on the blog.

Smaller Space

/ rachelgoes262 / 4 Comments

Back in August, I had started a blog post about the forced exodus from our old house due to abusive neighbors. I wrote about the attempted arson and daily harassment we experienced that necessitated that we leave under extreme duress for temporary safe housing that I only disclosed to very few people. It made sense to write about it at the time I was living it, especially when everyone in that area (except the attorney) was normalizing the abuse we experienced. 

Reading that now, I relived what we lived through this summer. It was very traumatizing. I am not ready to talk about or post about the attempt on our lives that occurred this summer and the subsequent daily harassment we experienced by the neighbors. 

Suffice it to say, we are now in permanent housing several hours away from those horrible people. We are safe. We no longer experience daily harassment, abuse or threats. We can sleep through the night without being deliberately woken up. I can walk outside safely without being physically attacked. 

It was very hard to leave an area and a community I was part of for over 20 years. We were literally bullied out of our home we had known for decades due to two families who were engaging in various criminal activities.

Now that we are in a safe place, I am learning a completely new location This is the hardest move I have made since the 90s. 

When we initially left, I could only take the cats in the car and whatever I could fit in the trunk. We had to arrange the leaving at a safe time when I would not be physically attacked or otherwise physically prevented from leaving. A few weeks later, when I went back with a moving truck to move all my belongings out of the old house, the moving men were threatened with assault by the neighbors. It was a rough situation.

I had spent all summer downsizing and minimizing the house. I knew we would be moving to a smaller space, even though I did not know where we were going. 

When they say, you and your belongings grow and increase to match the size of the space in which you live, that saying is true. 

While I got rid of over three truckloads of stuff before the move, it was eye opening to see how much I really have now that we are living someplace that is literally half the size of the house we fled. 

At first, it was encouraging to find that all my belongings fit into a 16-foot moving truck with room to spare. I had friends who kept saying I had way too much stuff and there was no way everything would fit into a 16-foot moving truck. To my surprise and delight, they were wrong! 

All my belongings were stored in the moving truck for about 8 days before we could get into permanent housing. To be honest, I mostly forgot about what was in there. 

The cats and I were in temporary safe housing with only what had fit into the trunk of my car. It was very freeing as well as eye opening to see how little we needed on a day-to-day basis. What was most important was that the cats and I were together through the entire ordeal and that we were all safe. 

While I was elated that all my belongings fit into a 16-foot moving truck with room to spare, moving into our new home was a bit of a comedown. With half the living space, it now feels like I have way too much stuff. 

We have only been in our new home for a month. In addition to unpacking and getting settled in our new home, I am learning a new area, working full-time, attending to all our medical needs, and had to deal with the fact that Sophie was totaled in this transition. 

It’s been a lot of change and a lot of trauma.

When it snows this winter and things slow down, minimizing will be back on my radar again in full force. This house feels cluttered with all our stuff in it. It is overwhelming. Therefore, things need to be removed.

I’ve seen how little we needed when we were living the emergency those few weeks in temporary safe housing. We do not need all the stuff in the new house with us now. 

The biggest difference between the temporary safe house and our permanent home is that when we were in temporary housing, we were in an urban area. It was easy to get things there and access resources such as groceries and laundry. In our new permanent home, on-site laundry is a necessity. Other necessities we need in our permanent home that were not relevant in temporary housing include emergency supplies for winter, as we are not in an urban area close to amenities. 

If people get more things to fill a larger space, then we must conversely get rid of things to fit a smaller space. 

Our weeks in temporary housing showed me how little we need. The challenge will be curating the items in our permanent home down to what will fit here without being cluttered. 

On top of everything I am doing trying to get settled in a new area, I am also trying to take time for me. The cats and I need to heal from all the abuse we suffered at the hands of the neighbors. Jolene especially has been traumatized. She had always been a friendly, outgoing cat until the summer when the neighbors escalated. Now she is timid and fearful. We are all still mourning Jude. I feel so guilty I could not get him out of that house before he passed. We all have a lot of trauma to process as the result of the daily harassment we experienced and attempt on our lives. 

This winter expect to see a return to minimalism as we acclimate to a smaller space. I’m now looking at it with fresh eyes after our experience being in temporary housing for so long and having to flee our prior house under extreme threat and duress. I have a lot of “comfort items” that were not comforting and not needed when we were living the emergency. You don’t realize how little you need until you can only leave with a very small, space restricted amount of stuff. 

The good news is, that chapter of our life of horror is behind us. We have a new chapter ahead. While it has it’s challenges, we are all safe and no longer in physical danger. We can finally get back to our roots at Rewind Live Slow. 

A Decade of Rewind Live Slow

/ rachelgoes262 / 2 Comments

It’s been 10 years since I started this blog. Back in the day, (mid 2000s) I had a facebook. I deleted my facebook for my mental health. I have no regrets and have not looked back. Once I finished grad school, I decided I was “done” being on the internet and all the drama that goes with it.

In 2015, a coworker suggested I start a blog. She commented that stories I told at work about my life and what I experienced and noticed throughout my day were often comical, and other people may like to read. I decided I also wanted to use all my own original photography and have never used a stock photo on this site. 

I pay for my domain and hosting and try to keep things clean and ad-free for you. 

While some of my earliest posts may have been comical, I do realize that a lot of posts are more serious as I have navigated challenges in life. I try to focus on downsizing, minimalism and simple living, but life happens. We minimize our belongings to focus on the things in life that really matter – the relationships. 

From the comical post era, I will say that one of my personal favorites was the post about the time my yoga pants went to yoga. 

The cats have featured on this blog many times. I try to do a birthday and a gotcha day post for each cat. We now have two social media accounts – a twitter and a bluesky. I have made some new and treasured friends sharing my cats on social media. There have been many times over the past 5 years when the pet accounts on our social media have kept me going.

There is a lot of drama right now with these neighbor issues after we were attacked and physically injured two years ago. We are harassed daily; it prevents me from working and sleeping. There are a lot of moving parts, many of them legal, but I am trying to get us out of this situation and to a safe place. I can’t give a lot of detail right now due to safety. 

However, once it’s all done and we are in a safe place, I have stories to tell about the journey we are now on to try to get to a place of physical safety. 

A few weeks ago, there was gunfire here. 

Right now, I’m trying to post on here once a month. It is a struggle with trying to get us to a safe place to live with all the legal and other logistical parts involved. I am also having some very serious health concerns now.

I just wanted to take some time out to acknowledge that this blog has now been here for a decade. It started June 2015. I wanted to be sure I made a post for the anniversary before June 2025 passes us by.

If you are any kind of praying person, we would appreciate all the prayers and positivity you can muster right now. I’m trying to get us away from these abusive neighbors and to a safe place. Finding housing that will accept four cats is the challenge. 

I will not give up any one of my cats. They are the only family I have left. My entire purpose of buying this house in 2018 was to keep us all together. I love this house. I researched it back to when it was built and learned its stories. 

Due to violent neighbors that have already injured us and continue to threaten our safety daily, we are not safe here anymore.

So please pray we can find a place to live. 

Hopefully the next decade of Rewind Live Slow will be able to get back to more of the comical aspects of past. 

Where We Left Off

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One of the joys of life are those friendships that you have for a decade or more, maybe several decades, where the depth is so strong that no matter what happens in life or how long its been since you have spoke, you always have the ability to pick right back up with that person where you left off. Maybe its your best friend from college that you rarely see because they live in a different state. Yet every time you get together, whether its once a year or even less frequent, things just naturally pick right back up again.

These are the friends that you know you can call in the middle of the night. They are the first number you’re dialing when anything major happens – a new baby, a death, a promotion. You want them to hear your news. You want their input for major decisions. They may not see you everyday, but you still think “omg, what would they think of my hair?” when you get a new do.

These are the people that you would drop everything to help. All those sappy country music songs about hopping into your car and taking off on an hours long road trip to help someone out when they call – those kind of ties are real. They may be a rarity, but they exist.

Sometimes you do all that to help someone with the big stuff. Sometimes you drop everything to rush to their side just to silently hold their hand. Silence in person is more comforting than silence by phone. You know that this person would not have called unless they really need something. You know that since they called, you really do need to drop everything to be there.

These are the people who sometimes know you better than you know yourself.

I have the privilege of having this type of relationship with a select handful of people in my life. Perhaps one of the most treasured is someone who I have known for over 30 years. Yes, I know, I’m showing my age. I recently tried describing this relationship into the 21st century by saying it’s my “ride or die.” While there are boundaries in this relationship, I will say that those boundaries are pretty much – I will – unless I absolutely can’t (physically, financially, emotionally, etc.)

I’m not saying that the word door mat should be on your forehead and it’s not on mine. This type of relationship goes two ways.

Life takes you different places and through different situations. Yet somehow, you keep coming back to this one person. It may have been years since you have spoken, and yet when you reconnect, everything is the same.

Some of these relationships can be unhealthy. Some are healthy relationships, yet simply a casualty of geography and circumstance. There have been moments when this particular relationship has been unhealthy for me, but as we have gotten older and life circumstances have changed, it is once again healthy. Sometimes you have to figure out if its toxic or just a phase of life.

Every time we pick up where we left off, I’m ecstatic. I don’t know how long it will last. That is the unhealthy part. The part when it ends and we have to go our seperate ways breaks my heart every time. But I also know that we will come together again and pick up where we left off. That part brings me hope. I also have hope that at some point geography won’t be an issue, and we won’t have to pick up where we left off anymore because we will just be fixtures in each other’s lives again.

Years go by and people change, but at the core, we’re still the same. It’s this consistency that keeps me going. No matter the circumstance, you know the person is the same. You know that’s the same person you fell in love with or first made friends with.

We never say goodbye because it never is goodbye. You may see someone only once every few years, but you still have other ways to communicate – by phone, by letter. It could be months between correspondence and yet you always just continue the conversation.

The relationship keeps going … from where we left off …

A few months ago, my local newspaper had a poetry page. I submitted two entries to the poetry page, one short and one long. The rules for the poetry page was that it had to be original work and that it had to be poems that had never been published. The work I submitted met the requirements; I had not even posted the poems ever to this blog, so they were truly unpublished pieces.

The longer poem that I submitted and was published was one that I had written about my “ride or die” person with whom I have this “where we left off” relationship. Since it was published in the newspaper’s poetry page a few months ago, this will be the second time it’s been published. I’m just going to leave you with this piece of original poetry here:

Innocence Lost

We were 8 years old

Out on the playground.

You asked me out.

I laughed and ran away.

 

10 years later,

I’m in college

And you’re fighting a war.

It’s like we don’t

Know each other anymore.

I’m still dreaming

While every boot print you’re leaving

Takes you further away

From the boy you once were.

 

10 years after that

And I’m not surprised

At the man you’ve become.

I always knew you would

Be someone great.

Too bad the hand of fate

Took the best of you

And left it in some cave

When you were off in that war.

 

We try again. And again.

I know you’re in there,

But things you’ve lived

And things you’ve seen

Well, the Army took

More from you

Than anyone would believe.

 

If life were simple

I would go back to

8 years old

On that playground

Waiting to be found.

How to Train Your Cat: A Guide for Humans

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Jude and Simon have this system down for the past year where they have been manipulating me to feed them extra food. I know that they were doing it, but I could not figure out how to make it stop and was too tired to care.

The cats eat breakfast and dinner. Their food is measured according to the veterinarian specifications so that they stay at optimal weight and health. Jude will beg for food, but he is easily ignored. What is more challenging is that Simon acts out to try to get food. I have not been able to get him to behave. The only way I can get Simon to stop destroying whatever he is destroying is to feed him.

So when we went to the vet office for Jude’s well visit this spring, I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. Jude and Simon have been manipulating me ever since we moved into the house. I was literally at my wit’s end on what to do and how to make it stop.

Simon was chewing stereo cords. I literally thought of taking the stereo upstairs and putting it in an empty room to get him to stop. This would completely screw up my mojo. The stereo is my longest possession – I’ve had it over 20 years. I play radio or CDs all the time. I have trouble with the stairs, so to put the stereo on the second floor would be torture to me. I could not get Simon to leave the stereo alone unless I fed him.

So, yes, Jude had gained 2 pounds since we have been in the house which is totally not good for his health. When I explained the entire situation to the vet, she laughed saying that the cats have trained me. I guess they have. The cats are better at training me than I am at training them.

Have you ever tried to train a cat? It’s like nailing jello to a tree. They say dogs have owners and cats have staff. There’s some truth to that. Thank goodness we don’t have a dog. I don’t think I could train one.

I told the vet everything I had done to get Simon and Jude to stop.

The vet said that I should be able to train them within a week. She gave me some tips and said that the vet office would follow up in a few weeks to see how it was going.

I can train a cat within a week? I know people who own dogs who have to take them to obedience classes and it takes months to train a dog. You think I can train two cats within a week?

Try 4 days.

Yes, I did train them. It took four days.

I followed my vet recommendations. I put a handful of quarters in an empty pineapple can. Whenever Simon got anywhere near the stereo, I shook the can without looking at him, talking to him, or acknowledging him. I shook that can and continued reading/cooking/doing whatever I was doing.

Simon is completely fearless. Simon is not afraid of anything except thunderstorms. This cat is brave beyond belief with absolutely everything on planet earth except thunderstorms. And apparently, quarters in a pineapple can. Those are terrifying too.

Do you know how hard it is to train a cat like this without laughing hysterically? It’s like when you are trying to have a “teachable moment” with your child when they have done something absolutely hilarious, yet you have to keep a straight face so they will learn why even though what they did was funny, it was not a good idea.

So, if you want to train your cat, put a handful of quarters in a pineapple can and shake it when they misbehave.

I did that four days in a row before we finally got to the point where Simon does not dare go anywhere near the stereo.

Quarters in a pineapple can will train your cat in 4 days. Who knew?

We have the best veterinarian EVER!

Dog Gone Down

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April is turning out to be an eventful month. Did you know that when people turn 40, that automatically means you are depressed? According to my primary physician it does.

There was an article out of the UK recently that concludes the age at which people are the most unhappy in life is 44. Must be that mid-life crisis setting in. This is a follow-up to the study that was done a few years ago about the happiest age. I’ve written about it before somewhere on this blog… The happiness study concludes that the happiest age is 33. I definitely agree with that. Some pretty awesome things happened in my life when I was 33.

I do not think that just because a person turns 40 automatically means you are depressed. I was so ecstatic (honestly) to turn 40 last month. I have now officially outlived over half of the females in my family. Each decade I keep getting better. Plus, I am able to change age group for running.

My primary physician spent the bulk of my appointment a few weeks ago talking to me about mood disorders, specifically depression. They gave me the depression screening twice – once at the beginning of my appointment and once at the end. I was negative both times. I am not depressed.

This is a great time in my life. Life is not perfect. I’m lacking my dream job. But I’ve already ridden that unicorn, so things right now are pretty awesome. What do I have to be depressed about? I gave it some serious thought. I could not come up with anything.

I figured if my doctor is lecturing me about depression and I don’t feel depressed, that there must be something wrong with me. I’m 40 now, apparently I’m supposed to be depressed. What is up with all the happiness? I should be feeling down.

That lead me to create me own crisis. I’m 40 now, so, according to my doctor, it’s not normal for everything to be good.

Is it just me, or does this entire situation sound messed up?

This leads to Dog Gone Down.

I called one of my therapist friends from when I was in social work and explained the entire situation to her. I said, well, my doctor seems to think I have a mood disorder all of a sudden since I turned 40, so maybe I need therapy. She laughed. Once the laughter subsided, she screened me for depression again. Again, I scored completely negative with no symptoms. Then she asked me what I would talk about in therapy.

Well, Simon’s new trick is knocking the phone off the hook so that it rings busy. I’m trying to get money back in my savings account for house maintenance. I’m planning a half marathon for the fall. Nothing deep. My friend kept giggling and suggested maybe I need a new primary care physician, not a therapist. But to be honest, I’m pretty sure this 40 equals depression thing is pretty pervasive in the medical community here.

This weekend I took a box of towels and blankets to the animal shelter to donate. There are about three animal shelters in a 30 mile radius of me, so I try to rotate which shelter I am donating to so that I am not showing love to just one of the area animal shelters.

I dropped off the box, and, as usual when I make a donation, I walked around the shelter visiting with the animals. I have absolutely no desire to adopt another cat. I already live with two. Jude and Simon run this household, and there is no way I can handle a third boss in charge of my life. But, I enjoy showing the shelter cats some love for an hour or so when I drop something off.

Then, I walked into the dog room. I immediately turned around to walk out because it was just too LOUD. When six or seven dogs are barking at once, it is loud. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move up high. There was a dog on the end who was jumping to see who was there. It was the only dog not barking.

So, I went down to visit him. He looked really lonely. He is one of the longest dogs there. People don’t visit with him because he is so shy. He lays in the cage and just looks at people. I have spent close to 3 hours with this dog and never heard him bark once. When people visit animal shelters to adopt, it is quite common that shy or elderly animals get overlooked. This one is very shy.

And then I thought. This is it! Maybe the doctor was right. Maybe I’m depressed and I NEED A DOG!

Or, rather, a dog would be the perfect crisis to inject into my life right now to totally screw up the little utopia I have going on with my family life at home. Totally acceptable. I can tell the doctor I’m stressed because I have a dog, it will confirm her idea of mood disorder and I’ll be good to go.

This dog really did tug at my heart strings. I have been wanting a dog. If I had the house a year earlier, Simon would have been a dog and not a cat. However, since buying the house, I just figured I would wait until both Jude & Simon pass away and then get a dog. I was not thinking of getting a dog right now. But this dog was so polite. He is trained and has manners. I just fell in love.

The shelter rule is that you have to fill out an adoption application to visit with a dog. I filled one out so I could visit with him and pet him. He was so well behaved and trained that I was seriously considering adoption, but needed more time and visits. I let the shelter know I was interested.

This morning they called and said my adoption application had been approved and wanted to know when I was picking him up?

What?

I am not sure if I am ready for a dog. I need more visits and to see what he is like outside and on a leash. I have never even walked a dog on a leash before. I have walked cats on a leash plenty of times, but never a dog.

The dog is scheduled to be neutered tomorrow and will need time to recover from surgery, so I took the afternoon off to visit him again so I could see him outside and try him on the leash.

That was the worst experience of my life. I am never getting a dog. I grew up with dogs, but I have been living with cats for the past 20 years. Apparently, with a dog, the human has to be in charge. I don’t have the personality for it. In my house, my cat is in charge.

Walking a dog on a leash was the worst experience of my life. I may possibly be injured.

The shelter does not allow people to walk dogs on their own, so he was doubled leashed. I am so thankful for this rule.

I was dragged.

I think I blew out my knee again. No exaggeration. My leg from my ankle up through my hip and back hurt. My arm hurts from my wrist to my shoulder. I am really worried about my knee. It’s also the knee that had a serious injury a few years ago.

The shelter told me that this dog is the easiest one to walk in the kennel. They have an 80 year old volunteer who loves walking this dog because he is so easy to walk. Well, that’s great, but I was still dragged. If I cannot handle this dog with a shelter staff helping me, there is no way I will be able to handle him on my own.

The shelter staff tried explaining “well, he can be trained …” I get that, but at the same time, I will not be able to train him. I will be injured and none of us will be going anywhere. Plus, I was really worried about how Jude and Simon would take the sudden appearance of a dog in our lives.

So, lesson learned. The dog is gone. Well, not really. I never had the dog to begin with. He is still in the shelter. My heart still breaks for him because he is the sweetest dog. No one looks at him because he is so shy. I’m sure if an experienced dog owner could overlook the shyness, they would be able to handle him on a leash and he would be an amazing companion. For EXPERIENCED dog walkers, he is great on a leash. As a 100-pound person who has never walked a dog before, I cannot handle being dragged by a 50 pound dog.

When Kip was alive, he walked on a leash quite frequently. He loved it. Sometimes, he would take off and chase a leaf or something. Being dragged by a 14 pound cat is way different. I can handle that. I would like to leash train Jude and Simon, but they want nothing to do with it.

Don’t tell me to try for a smaller dog. I don’t want a smaller dog. I would just have a cat. I don’t think I’m meant to have a dog. It was just this one that stole my heart.

So, maybe I can be down because the dog is gone. It is very sad that such a great pet is in a shelter. Or, maybe I will continue to argue with my primary care physician that not only am I not depressed, but I am very happy because my life is pretty good right now.

When I go to sleep tonight, I have two amazing cats who love me and snuggle me in bed every night. Really, it doesn’t get much better than that.

I could tell her how stressful it is living in the house because it is so LOUD here. I miss my apartment because it was quiet. But, I don’t think that makes me depressed. I am more annoyed at the noise and unruliness of the neighborhood where the house is compared to the apartment.

Bottom line, I’ve tried dog gone down, and it just doesn’t work.

This 40-year old lives with two cats and is happy.

My Best Decade

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Today is my 40th birthday. Birthdays are my favorite holiday. They are proof I’m still here and survived another year of what life threw at me. 40 is great because I get to move up another age group in running. 40 is significant because I have now outlived my paternal grandmother, who passed away from a stroke at age 39. Each decade I’m alive keeps getting better, so here’s hoping that 40 is awesome.

Looking back on my 30s, they were pretty amazing. My 30s were definitely better than my 20s.

The three major challenges I had in my 30s were the heartache of Kip’s death, the heartache of Kitty’s death, and my stroke at age 37. There were other really bad things too, but these three were the worst.

With those notable exceptions, my 30s were (so far) my best decade.

In random, but somewhat chronological order, here are 10 things that made my 30s the best decade ever:

  1. I completed my bachelor’s degree.

It took 15 years to do so. In those 15 years, I did get an associate’s degree, live in at least 4 different states, battle homelessness, and work 3 jobs 60-70 hours per week, but I got it done. My bachelor’s degree was the only degree for which I was not valedictorian, and it was the only graduation ceremony I attended. Out of all my degrees, finishing my bachelor’s was definitely not only the most challenging, but also the most fun.

  1. I ran marathons.

More than one. I’ve ran in Philly, Boston, Toronto, Montreal, Ottawa, Scranton, and a few other cities. Each one is precious. I ran a marathon down the longest street in the world (true story). I ran my first point-to-point (city-to-city) marathon. I represented Team USA internationally. I had the opportunity to run into an Olympic Stadium (not during an actual Olympics). I’ve gotten a high five at the finish line from the Mayor of a major American city.  I’ve had limo service to my pre-race dinner as a “visiting athlete.” My medals actually mean more than my degrees.

  1. I got to see my MLB team play on home turf.

Every baseball fan should have this experience at least once in their life. It doesn’t matter how old you are, it is completely magical to be at the stadium on game day, to watch the maintenance people prep the lawn, and then finally see your heroes take the field to play the best game on Earth. If you have not yet had this experience, it should definitely be on your bucket list. Pro sports tickets are extremely expensive, but try to save to go just once. It’s one of my favorite memories of all time.

  1. I got to see my MLB team win the World Series (on TV, not in person).

This is another experience that everyone should have at least once in their life. I’ve seen road wins and I’ve seen home wins. The home win is just something everyone should be able to experience once. No one should have to die without having seen their team win the World Series.

  1. I fell in love.

You hear this all the time. In my 20s, the remark was almost flippant. In my 30s, this phrase took on meaning. I don’t mean the lightning strike love-at-first-sight moment that is a complete whirlwind and then all of a sudden fizzles. I’m talking about the kind of love where you have known a person for decades through good and bad and are 100% supportive of that person, even when they are doing things that are not necessarily great. I’m not talking about being a door mat. I’m talking about actually being someone’s partner and having the ability to love a person so much that you are always there for them even if their life choices take them away from you. The kind of love that you know that is your person and there is no one else you click with like that, who knows you so well.

  1. I finished my Master’s degree.

If my bachelor’s degree seemed an impossibility, then grad school was a pipe dream. I actually think I was in the final year of my bachelor’s when I started asking people to explain grad school to me. No one in my family had ever even gone to college and the only people I knew with graduate degrees were my professors. It was like some hidden Holy Grail that I was finally able to unlock. I am now a Jill of all trades and master of ONE!

  1. I rode the unicorn into extinction.

By this I mean that I had that elusive experience of all adulthood – I had my dream job. I had a job I loved so much that it didn’t feel like work. I just showed up to do what I wanted to do – what I had spent 20 years of my life preparing to do – and happened to get paid to do that every day. I would have been so happy to do that every single day until I died or retired. How many people in this country have the privilege of being able to say “I love what I do” and actually mean it? Or should I say, how many people can actually say “I love what I do” and are getting paid to do it at a level that meets all their living expenses. All dreams must come to an end, and the company I worked for decided to pull out of New York State. So I rode the unicorn to the end of the rainbow not to find a pot of gold like I had expected, but just an empty void that I still have not figured out how to fill. Once you’ve had your dream job, nothing else will ever live up to that experience. Especially when the job you find to replace the dream doesn’t even respect you. Now, this is extinction.

  1. I bought a house.

If my masters degree was a pipe dream, well, I’ll tell you right now that buying a home was never on my radar. At all. I have never lived in a house. I have spent a chunk of my life being homeless. I never figured a “person like me” would even own a home. I never entertained the idea or even saved for one. Owning a home was a joke. My back-up plan for housing was – well, if things go bad, I’ll just move back to Massachusetts or buy a house, insert excessive laughter literally rolling on the floor laughing here. Buying a house is one of the scariest things I have ever done in life. So far, it’s also been one of the best choices I have ever made. I kept my family together and the cats are so much happier here than they were in the apartment. Funny, I never thought they were unhappy in the apartment, it’s just a contrast to see how well they are doing in the house.

  1. Anything less than 110% is … okay?

I spent almost 25 years of my life burning the candle at both ends. I slept 4 hours a day. I worked 3 jobs to make ends meet because really, who can survive on minimum wage? I worked 60-70 hours per week while going to school full-time working on my degrees. I excelled in school. Some call me an overachiever. So, when my stroke completely knocked me down a few years ago, it is quite a shock to only operate at abut 86%. Which, by the way, is considered my “level of functioning.” I am also considered “fully recovered.” Even though the doctors consider me fully functional, it is hard for me to accept that this is all I can do now. I’m used to doing so much more. What my stroke has taught me, is that it is okay to slow down. I can rest and still get things done. I’m pretty grateful to have learned this lesson now and be at 86% than to have just worked myself into the ground – it could have been worse. Listen to your body is the greatest lesson I have learned in my 30s.

  1. Family First

Family first has been carrying me through life since Kitty, as a 4-month old kitten, first climbed up onto my shoulders at the animal shelter and would not get down when I was 19. He picked me out. I took him home. We were together until he passed away from cancer just before his 19th birthday. Every major life choice I have made has centered around keeping my family together. Through everything that has happened with work, school, running, and health, at the end of the day, I come home to my furkids. They are always here, happy to see me with unconditional love. Family first is the tenant that will carry me into my 40s. As long as we are all together, everything is okay. My primary job is keeping us all together, loving my cats and being loved by them.

Of course, none of this would be possible without God. That’s the bottom line. God has done great things in my life through my 30s. I can’t wait to see what’s next for 40. Thanks for making my 30s my best decade so far.

My life verses:

“We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed and broken. We are perplexed, but we don’t give up and quit. We are hunted down, but God never abandons us. We get knocked down, but we get up again and keep going. Through suffering, these bodies of ours constantly share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.” – 2 Corinthians 4:8-10 (NLT)

A Year Without Facebook

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It’s been a year since I completely deleted my facebook account, and I have no regrets. None. Aside from my medical challenges, the past year without facebook has been one of the best years of my life since before facebook was invented. My stress levels are significantly reduced, and I am actually enjoying life again.

It’s a great feeling to be able to spend time with someone and not constantly be thinking about taking a photo of something or a witty quip to make as a post. When you are not constantly documenting your life for the facebook world, you get to actually participate in and enjoy each moment. When I was on facebook, I felt like an observer to my own life. “Oh, I have to post …” Like everyone needed to know what I was doing every moment of my life. They don’t.

I do training classes where I work, and we have a no cell phone policy. When I train people about the no cell phone policy, I tell them that I believe they can do it. In a world where cell phones are practically an appendage, you can survive for 90 minutes without your phone. The internet will go on, facebook will survive, and your friendships will not end. It will be okay. Constantly checking your cell phone is a compulsion for most people. Not only have I broken my facebook habit, but my cell phone habit also.

I still have a cell phone. However, without a facebook, I use the phone for its intended use – mostly texting and *gasp talking on the phone. Yes, there are still people in this world who pick up a phone and dial numbers to make it ring to physically talk to a person on the other end instead of typing a text message. Plus, the people with whom I talk know I have a job and a life, and may not instantly reply.

In a world of instant gratification, I’m doing it old school. Sometimes people don’t answer the phone because they actually have a life. I’m too busy living mine to have a facebook or to respond right away. I will respond, but if I’m enjoying someone’s company, I’m not going to ruin the moment by being a slave to a chirping, palm-sized piece of technology.

I do not feel as though I have missed out on anything in the past year without a facebook. The only news I get is from the radio, so I managed to miss a large portion of election coverage. Even the political news I hear on the radio has been getting too much for me. I’ve been listening to my CDs and vinyl records more so that I don’t have to hear newscasts. But I’m pretty sure that if I had not deleted my facebook account last year and was online for the duration of the election season, that I would have lost my sanity by now and be in an asylum.

Most people have gotten the clue that I am no longer online and make the effort to either see me in person, write a letter (that’s when you use a pen to write on paper and put this little square on it called a stamp), call me, or text. My time now with family and friends is that much richer and precious to me. I actually have time to spend quality time with people and give them my full attention without the “ping” of social media constantly distracting me from the people who are right in front of me.

I have used my time without facebook to focus on what’s important to me. Mainly, the people in my life and the relationships I neglected not only from being online but also all the years I spent as a professional college student who was working multiple jobs. I may be paycheck to paycheck, but my year without facebook has made me richer in so many ways.

Now, I have the time to pay attention to my body and my health as I still struggle to recover from being in the hospital last fall. The past year without facebook has shown me that I need to pay attention to what is truly important, and one of those items is my health. Deleting my facebook has helped me retain my sanity in a tumultuous election year, and is now affording me the time to focus on my physical health as well.

I’m looking forward to entering year two without a facebook account. I can only imagine that life will continue to move in a positive direction, as I am able to spend more time with people I love and focus on things like health. So here is to a year without facebook, and looking forward to many more.