Category: It’s The Journey, Not The Destination

Posted on

Our Move(s): The Chronicles, Part 2

When John and I still lived in Texas, we became early adopters of the cord-cutting movement. We started with a Play-on subscription and a WD box and found this to be clunky. I still have the Play-on subscription but we quickly pitched the WD and bought a first-generation Roku and fell in love. We have upgraded our players over the years and even bought a TCL Roku tv. We have yet to be disappointed. 

This post was going to take a different path and I may come back to that yet, but now the stream is flowing and I just have to go with it. 

So way back then, when John found his new job in Ohio, after being unceremoniously relieved from his job – nope still not bitter – we found ourselves in a predicament. For a few months, John would work from home and also spend time in Columbus at the office. It was something like one week in Ohio and two weeks home. Or vice versa. That was all doable in my book, Jack had the remainder of the school year and he would graduate and I had time to get the house ready to sell. Then off to Columbus and our life as empty nesters.  But, the new company decided that he should be at the office in Ohio full time starting in January. This really sucked. I had hoped against hope that we would be staying in Texas and he would continue to work remotely. But, no. At this time we had a choice to make. Move to Ohio and make Jack finish his final semester in Ohio or have Jack stay with a friend or split up and let Jack finish his last year at home with his mom. 

As you know John moved to Ohio and Jack and I stayed in Texas. We were physically distant and would be for what seemed forever but was actually months. It was not a pleasant time. 

My grandma told me a truism once. She said that you should always have dinner with your husband. When asked what should I do with the kids when he was working late or odd hours she said, “So what. Feed them and play with them then send them to bed. Eat with your husband.” Taking heed of this sage advice from very early on, John and I always had at least one meal together. Even if it was his dinner and my breakfast because he worked third shift and came home as I was leaving for work, it didn’t matter we ate together until he had to travel for work. Then we spent time before bed talking on the phone together like teenagers. We made it work. But this long term/distance thing was going to try us. It wouldn’t break us completely but it would try. 

When Jack was little and John was out of town I ordered pizza, when the pizza arrived Jack ran to the kitchen to get plates for the dining room table. And I said, “Not tonight. Tonight we eat like Men!” I plopped the pizza on the coffee table and there we ate, no plates only paper towels, in the living room in front of the TV. Jack thought this was the best thing ever!  

So when John moved to Ohio and I stayed, Jack would be either at work or his girlfriends and there I ate my soup. In a cup and standing in the kitchen. I didn’t want to bother with actually cooking anything unless Jack was home for the evening. Then on Friday nights, I would get a small frozen pizza, and Max, Boo, and I would eat like Men in front of the TV. It was a lonely existence. Meanwhile, in Ohio, John made real food every night of the week. He likes to cook. I missed our meals together. John didn’t like that I wasn’t eating properly and came up with date night. We would plan a meal to make for date night on Sunday evening. We would buy the ingredients and prepare the meal at the same time and then send pictures to each other of our food. Then we would Skype while we ate and laugh and have a good time. Then came time for the movie. 

So now back to Roku. We would watch the same movie at the same time all queued up to start at the count of three. One. Two. Three (press play). Then if you had to go to the potty you would just say One. Two. Three (press pause). This gave us months of Sunday Night Date Night dinner and a movie. That was the most fun we had during this time. I felt that he was still with me and I was with him. 

Everyone thinks we are crazy that we didn’t meet for a long weekend somewhere in the middle between Texas and Ohio. The truth was that we knew that either I wouldn’t go back to Texas, or John wouldn’t go back to Ohio, or neither of us would go back, and we would move somewhere else. We had responsibilities so we did what we had to so that Jack could graduate with his class. 

But, through all that, we made it. I thank Roku every day for being there for me and John during a very hard time. Early adopters of cord-cutting and being physically distant and socially aware.

Posted on

Physically Distant, Socially There – an Experiment

A lot has been happening in this strange year of 2020. Everyone is going through a pandemic and not being able to go out or go to work. They call it “social distancing,” but I would prefer to call it – “physical distancing” so I shall from now on. More on that later.

I haven’t written in a while, I was focusing inward on myself. I went to the doctor in December and realized that I now weighed more than I had ever weighed in my life. That was a shock and I cried. Right there on the scale in the hallway in front of other patients and nurses in the doctor’s office. I have always been chubby but this was an awakening. 

I went home and told John that I was now too fat and something needed to be done. So I put the bug in his ear and we went to the YMCA. We were never eating poorly but now we were going to eat even better. Funny thing was our grocery bill actually went down. At the YMCA we started walking and I knew that I was out of shape but my plan was to walk for an hour four or five times a week. John walked at work and then walked with me two nights a week. We were having a fun time. John was very motivating. I actually started to lose weight. By the time physical distancing came about I had almost lost fifteen pounds. I had never lost that much weight before and I was feeling great. Stupid coronavirus. 

So now, John is home and working in my office and we are sharing a desk. It’s not bad but he hardly ever listens to music. I always listen to music when I work. Ugh. But really not much has changed for me other than this. It could be worse and for many others it is. I won’t complain about this. But, I wondered what I could do to help someone else. 

I decided to try an experiment. My granddaughter is six and she lives in Texas and is currently going to school at home. She logs on to her classes with her teachers and learns the normal things a grade-schooler learns. Her mother is also working from home, is pregnant, dealing with a cooped up little girl and my son. So I thought I could “take Aleena off her hands” for a while every afternoon. Even if it is only for five or ten minutes at a time, maybe she can get a little me time in. I thought I could be physically distant and socially there. My plan may be an exercise in futility as she is only six and can’t sit still for any length of time, I will give it try. My plan is to read a book together. 

Thanks to the internet, facetime, two Amazon kindles and J.K. Rowling, Aleena and I are off on an adventure. An adventure I took with her father and her uncle. We are off to Hogwarts.   

Posted on

Lazy Sunday

It’s the last part of August which is typically really warm to unbearably hot. But not this weekend. This weekend has been beautiful. The kind of day where there are big puffy clouds in a soft chambray sky and the temperature at 11:17 am is 65°. There is a light breeze blowing through the curtains. 

On the three-season porch, John is relaxing on the couch researching ventless propane gas logs for our living room fireplace and listening to the James Taylor station on Alexa.

Boo loves the couch on the porch and is taking the time to spread out and sleep in the calm and coolness of this day, near but not too near her daddy. 

Meanwhile, Cooper and MeMe take this opportunity to play and run in the yard and do what puppies do best – live life to the fullest. 

Time seems to stand still on a day like this, summer is not quite over and fall is around the corner. Chores are done and work is a million hours away. There is only this moment on this day. This could be the perfect day. 

Posted on

One Little Lie

Yesterday my granddaughter turned six. Boy how time flies. For her birthday, her mom took her to every child’s mecca, Chuck E. Cheese. She loved it. Last night I remembered the last time I ever went to Chuck E. Cheese’s and I laughed hysterically until I cried. I am a bad mom and here is what happened. (insert dream sequence now)

Joshua was three going on four and wanted to have his birthday at Chuck E. Cheese. John and I dreaded this request as we had learned from parents in the know that it was loud and really expensive. We were poor. So like any young parents, we scrimped and saved and gave our child what he wanted. Chuck E. Cheese. 

My father-in-law wanted to spend the day with Joshua and take him out to lunch and then to the movies and anything else that happened to pop into their heads that day. I remember asking Dad to not give him too much junk food as we were going to Chuck E. Cheese and he said, “Don’t worry. He will be fine.” And off they toddled toward the car with barely a wave or kiss goodbye. Joshua idolized his Grandpa. 

Later that evening John and I arrive at Chuck E. Cheese and soon are met by my mother and John’s parents and Joshua. Joshua is so excited and talked all about what they did that day. They went to the movies and he had a large popcorn and pop, two candy bars, they went for lunch at McDonald’s and he had a happy meal and a shake and he played at the playground. And he is so happy that he is at Chuck E. Cheese. I look at my father-in-law and he shrugs and tries to smile. He knows he was naughty. 

So we all sit down, order the pizza and while we wait I take Joshua to play some games. My father-in-law who just can’t sit still for any amount of time comes over and takes Joshua to the climbing Jungle Jim/slide thing and the ball pit. When the pizza arrives Joshua is the first to dive in. Now Joshua has never been one to get sick on food. He was small but had an appetite that would have made a professional competitive hot dog eater proud. But this day…this day was just too much excitement. And well, to be as nice as possible, everything came back up. All over the table and of course the remaining pizza. It was not pretty. 

We cleaned up the mess and left. On the way home, Joshua asked if we could go again. Here is where I become a bad mom. 

Before I knew it, I said, “I’m sorry, but we can’t.”

 “Why?” he whined. 

I didn’t want Joshua to know we didn’t have money and we couldn’t afford going there again, so I lied. I broke my rule and I lied and now my little boy will pay the price. I said, “Well, Joshua, did you see that wall with all the pictures on it?” (there may or may not have been a wall but I distinctly remember there being a wall with pictures on it.) 

“Yes, mommy I saw it,” he said with the honesty of a newly minted four-year-old. 

“Well, that wall is where they put the pictures of every child who threw up in Chuck E. Cheese and they send that child’s picture to every Chuck E. Cheese in the country.” 

“Why, mommy?” he asked.

“Those children that got sick can never go back.” I looked at John and he nodded.

“Ever?” 

“Ever.”

Mission accomplished. Birthday wish at Chuck E. Cheese completed and banned for life. I am not proud of this. Who am I kidding? Of course, I am. No parent really wants to go to Chuck E. Cheese, I just got out of ever going there again. 

This one lie had a rippling effect. Jack, who was not born yet, was not allowed to go either. In that Big Brother Knows way that big brothers use with little brothers, Joshua would explain to Jack every so often how he got banned for life. And Jack would say, “Thanks a lot, Joshua!” and walk away. Poor Jack, but don’t worry he got to do other things. But that was it. Until that fateful day. (Flash forward several years)

Joshua was sixteen and looking for a job. He was having trouble finding one and a friend of his suggested Chuck E. Cheese. Oh, what a tangled web we weave…Joshua said he wanted to apply and he did. He got called for an interview. He was excited and nervous. He was dressed so nice on a hot Texas day he even wore a tie. He looked great. I drove him to Chuck E. Cheese and waited patiently in the car while he went for his interview. After a while, he came back, got in the car and we talked. 

“How did it go?” I asked. 

“It was going really well,” he said. 

“Then what happened?”

“So, she met me at the front and we start walking down the hall, I am you know, keeping my head down. We get to her office and she asked questions which I answered and she told me what the job was going to be and how much I would get paid,” he told me.  

“Yes, go on,” I said. 

He looked at me and said, “ Then she asked me, ‘Do you have any questions?’”

“And did you?” I asked. 

“Yes, I did. I asked her where the wall was.”

Oh shit! “You didn’t!”

“Yes, I did. She asked, “What wall?” and I said, “You know, the wall that has the pictures of every child who gets sick and is banned for life?” 

Shocked and trying not to laugh. I said, “Oh, Joshua!”

Then Joshua said, “She looked at me and said, “There is no wall.” She asked me to leave. You know mom, there is no wall.”

“I know,” I laughed and I explained everything. And no, he did not get the job.

Some parents tell their children they are going to take them to Disneyland next year and never do. If you tell a child something at the right age they will remember it for life. I was a bad mom for lying to my child but I knew that it was something I would have to do. If I had said “maybe some other time” I would have been pestered to go and would always be the bad guy for breaking his heart when I said “No” for the umpteenth time because we could not afford it and he would not have understood if I had said “No, we can’t afford it.” He was too young. The moral of this story is that if you are going to tell a lie to a child, see it through. Go big or go home.

Posted on

Life of Crime

The day of my father-in-law’s funeral was mentally and physically exhausting. I was nervous, I was sad, tears near the surface waiting to be released, I was worried, and I became a book thief (kind of, but for all intents and purposes I am). This was not something that I planned, but rather it was something I felt I needed to do. What happened was this. 

From the moment we woke that morning in a hotel in Buffalo, NY, we were busy. It wasn’t that sweet drowsy wake up from a snuggle and a kiss. It was more like a hit the ground running, don’t stop or you will cry. I wanted to stay strong for John. I am a failure and I pulled him into my unintentional life of crime. 

Family was everywhere. I have never experienced family like my father-in-laws family. From an outsider’s perspective, they are warm and welcoming. My family, on the other hand, are more…um…well…It’s not about them so we will leave that thought just hanging there. Dad’s family, even though I have seen them just a few times in thirty-two years, makes you feel as if you have never been away. It is a truly lovely experience to sit in a group of not quite strangers that make you feel that you have always been there with a “Remember, that time….” But, dealing with family, even nice ones, can be exhausting on a day like this..funeral day. 

Funeral day. A day that no one wants. A day where you go to say farewell. A day that hammers home the one true fact, it’s final. No more will you hear a familiar voice, touch a familiar hand or smell that person’s scent in an embrace.  I do not like Funeral Day. 

So, after all the day’s activities were done, John and I went back to the hotel, changed and waited in the lobby for Jack and Andrea to go to a previous engagement. While John and I sat and chatted, I looked across the room and there was a bookshelf with books, there were knick-knacks too, but I was only interested in these books. And this is where it happened. I became a book thief and corrupted my husband. I am going to hell in a handbasket. 

I walked across the room and stood in front of the books. Then I saw it. I had never felt the desire to steal. Nor had I ever felt the desire to read this particular book. I didn’t even know what it was about. But, I had this urge that was growing, it felt like I would cry out in agony if I didn’t take this book. I picked it up and looked at the cover. I showed John. Then I slid this book for some unknown reason into my purse. To say the least, John was shocked. Now I will not go down alone so I pointed to another book and told John to put the Blade Runner in my purse. I thought it was an appropriate title but then I found out that the book title was not the Blade Runner, it was only highlighting the fact that the movie was based on this book. As an additional bonus, there were bookmarks. In they went! (I said “Handbasket” People!!)

And there it is. I stole The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. It was the first and only thing I have stolen. I brought this book back home with me. My booty. I thought if I took the time to take this book, I might just as well give it a read. I am glad I did. I just finished it this morning. I cried. I cried like I haven’t been able to for my father-in-law and for my own Max. I cried for the characters that died. I cried because the book ended. I needed that cry. 

While I like to think that I stole this book in some clandestine way, I didn’t. I didn’t even steal it. What I saw on the back cover of that book was a sticker that said: 

Someday in the future, I will return it. But for now, I need it. 

Posted on

Our Move(s): The Chronicles, part 1

So, around 3:30 in the morning (give or take) on some random day somewhere around a holiday, could be Halloween or Thanksgiving, you pick, my husband hears “I want to sell the house.” He mumbles “ok” as he rolls over and immediately starts his deep sleep again. The next morning he awakes as if nothing has happened, but the wheels in my head have been turning for hours. I almost feel sorry for him, but no. This has been a long time coming. My sweet husband and I bought our house around five maybe six years before. Honestly, I do not know or really care, all I wanted was a place to call my own. So now starts the flashback.

Back in the year 2000, when dinosaurs roamed (ha ha ha), my husband and I sold our house in northern Illinois and moved to Texas with our two children, Joshua and Jack, (those are their real names as I birthed them and named them, thus I have copyright over them). Living in Texas had its ups and downs, and never a dull moment or should I say “never a dull moment except for those moments that come between the not dull moments.” Texas really had those moments, just like being unceremoniously relieved of your job and left looking for a new job, when those in power owe their jobs to you. Seriously, I’m not bitter.

So John, my husband, found himself looking for a new job while our son, Jack, was a senior in high school. John found a job, but it was in Ohio and not in Texas and that meant a split. So, there was a decision to be made, we could either leave our youngest son with others and move together or we could make him move and finish his last year in a strange school with people he did not know, or we could separate and let him graduate with his friends. John and I chose number three. John and I were separated for almost six months. Jack graduated, and John and I moved the same weekend. I love my son but I missed my husband who I had not seen or been within around six months. My son, Jack did not want to move to Ohio so he stayed behind to be with his girlfriend, to work and go to college. As parents of newly graduated teens who know that they no longer have to do as we say or want because they are now adults and do not have to live with us anymore, we did not argue. Basically, as parents, we do not matter, unless we are deemed necessary. I am not bitter, not at all.

Columbus, Ohio here we come. Now that first year here entailed a whole new life, one that I never thought I would have to live. We were technically squatters. Our realtor, Lori Lynn (yes, this too is her real name, I asked and she said I could use it plus this is not Dragnet the names have not been changed to protect anyone who is innocent. Though I may change names to protect the guilty. They know who they are and therefore should be ashamed of themselves.) had put John in a house to live in temporarily to make it feel lived in but with the full knowledge that he would have to leave at a moment’s notice if anyone wanted to view it or if it sold. We kept it clean, neat and tidy and it sold in a couple of weeks of me being there. Great now we are homeless. Our realtor found another townhouse that was empty and we could live there month to month. I call it the Crap Shack. The Crap Shack was gross. It smelled and had not been cleaned in months. It was crappy. I cleaned it and we stayed there for about 30 days and then we moved to a really nice townhouse. Finally, after about six months our house in Texas finally sold. After a year in the townhouse, we knew that living there and walking the dogs five or more times a day rain or snow was not the life for us. Regrettably, we had to leave our cute townhouse.

The problem with buying a house in Columbus is that it is a seller’s market. Houses do not stay on the market long. We would look at a house, like it and offer to buy it and the reply would be, “NO!” I cannot tell you how many times we tried to purchase a house just to be rejected. It is like walking around with a bucket of money and saying to anyone who passes “Here is my Bucket O’ Money. May I please purchase your lovely home?” and get a response of “Your Bucket O’ Money is not good enough.” Finally, when all hope is lost a house is found and Bucket O’ Money is then accepted. Whoo Hoo!!! You move in and find out that your husband does not like the house and only bought it to make you happy. I love my husband and that was a very sweet thing to do for me.

So for the next five years or so John and I slowly worked on the house. It was a good house but had a really small yard and the house was in a nice neighborhood and the neighbors were not friendly and the houses were really close together. I finally had the house done just the way I wanted it. The last bathroom was painted. I had nothing to work on. So, this brings us back to that fateful morning. End flashback. 

Posted on

On Getting a Website

Today I received an email from my husband, John, that he got me “something to play with”, and to “go here on your computer”. Even though I was thinking that this could be someone pretending to be John wanting me to send money to that poor desolate Nigerian prince who has approval from the director of the FBI for me to send him money, and even though John has told me several times under no uncertain terms do not click the link in an email (could be a virus) – like a child wanting to touch the breakable even though mom said don’t  – I clicked it.

So, what is it you ask? A website.  Please read following with a cheesy 1970’s game show announcer voice:

Hello! My Name is Shari and Welcome To My WorkKrue!

Why did my husband get me a website? Seriously is that a gift? If it is, is it a good gift? He may regret this endeavour. He thinks I can write and should be a freelance writer, so he sent me an article containing the best websites for freelance jobs. I have been scouring these websites, I have found that I have no real-world experience to be a writer as I do not have a Bachelors or Masters degree. I also have to compete with people that will “write an academical essay” for $5.00 as well as guaranteeing an “A+ for grade”.  I actually saw a freelancer offering to sell “original” pictures of her feet. Yep. You can get 50 for $5.00. It is hard to compete when so many talented people are out there. People with journalism degrees, and professional writers and people with nice feet make it difficult to get a word in edgewise.

So, here I am. Not getting paid, but writing what I want. Talent or no, you can judge for yourself. This is going to be fun for me. After all, it’s all about me.