Author: Prof. Ornery

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Death and pets

I am waiting for my cat to die. He arrived in our house about a month ago. Prior to that he lived with the father of one of my best friends. Her father died last fall and Elroy (the cat) stayed in the house with one of her sisters until February when the house sold. Then he came to us. On Friday this week, he started to look even thinner (he’d been thin before, but now he was getting positively skeletal). He was not as energetic as he had been, and was not eating as much. I noticed he was breathing more rapidly and heavily as well. We made it through the weekend and this morning I took him to the vet. About five minutes after I dropped him off and left, the vet called me. Apparently his breathing had gotten worse and he was on the edge of dying. She’d brought him back and ran her tests. He has fluid in his chest cavity; the possible result of congestive heart failure or cancer. Later she called to tell me she’d taken 250 ml of fluid out of his chest. Before I picked him up this afternoon, she’d taken another 60 ml. That’s a hella lot of fluid for one small cat.

So, now we’re home. He’s crashed on the sofa and I’m watching him breathe. He’s in the same shape as the late, great Little Bit who died of cancer a couple of years age. I don’t know if he’ll make it through the night. If he does, I will take him back to the vet and my friend and I will make the last decision for him. If he doesn’t, I’ll bury him in the backyard beside the other two who died too young.

Expected or not, long-term family member, or recent arrival, it’s always so difficult to let a pet go. As I sit here watching him, I’d like to think that he’s comfortable (one of my other cats is sleeping next to him; every now and then her paw reaches out to touch him) and not stressed. I want to let him go on his own terms. I am not going to try to forestall the inevitable simply so I can have him around longer. Although he’s only been her for a month, he will be missed.

Here’s to you, Elroy. May you meet up with Henry as soon as you cross the Rainbow Bridge. All of us, human and feline, will miss you.

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Pivoting

So, I’ve been slacking on writing this blog for about a month. It’s been an interesting and enlightening month. After our trip to Punta Cana, both of us have been doing a lot of introspection and discussion as to what we want to do and where we want to be. Things at work have become more poisonous (if possible). I’ve discovered things about people that I would have been happier not knowing. Although, if I didn’t know, I’d probably get caught in the crossfire. Along with the national issues within higher education, the local poison has driven me away from academia. Hubby is looking for another job somewhere closer to northern California where both of our families live. However, we will go wherever he finds a job that he wants.

Along those lines, I’ve been reading a lot about vocations, jobs, living your best life and all that. When I started writing I had the idea that I would pivot to writing full time and then eventually create a non-profit for teaching literacy to adults. I still want to do something like that. But, now I’m thinking I’ll start by volunteering for a literacy program first (baby steps, ya know). But, then I read about just going for it. Fear be damned. It’s already scary thinking about going with only one salary. But, we’ve done it before when I first started teaching. Lots of pivots in this journey.

Pivots are what it’s all about. I just finished reading “The Art of Work” by Jeff Goins (I don’t know him and I’m not paid by him or his publishing company, I just read his book). He uses the term pivot (from basketball), and I like it. It describes perfectly what you do when you are or feel you are, pinned in one place. You can always pivot and face a different direction which opens up different options for you.

People will tell me I’m crazy to give up a tenured position. Who in their right mind gives up a job you can’t get fired from? Only lunatics, right? Well, no. I now understand what my father meant when he asked me if I really wanted to have a tenured job. He was worried. I laughed. I could quit any time, I told him. Tenure worked totally in my favor. What he was worried about is what I realized in the last year or so. Tenure is a two-way trap. Yes, I can leave, but that means giving up a guaranteed job. THAT is a very scary proposition. But staying means playing by rules that are bent, broken, and completely manipulated by those who would control others. Tenure means feeling trapped and thus becoming willing or resigned to, sucking up all kinds of abuse and futile gestures. That becomes not only demoralizing, but soul-killing.

So, unable to keep moving forward in the current direction, I will pivot. It’s scary, fun, exciting, unknown. Let’s do this!

Image: Pixabay

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Back on track

I have not been writing for a few weeks. Things got a bit out of control at work. Then, it was spring break and we treated ourselves to five days in Punta Cana. A much needed beach break where we did nothing except walk on the beach, sit on the beach, move to the pool, back to the beach, to the swim up bar…you get the idea. I did do some writing and read fiction. Then, once we got back the rest of the semester with its stresses and deadlines moved in. OK. Enough of the excuses.

Today we got back on track with everything that’s hanging over us. Once more we dove into our own version of storage wars. This time we went into our own basement. Damn, we have a bunch of crap down there. We got through about six boxes of stuff and have about five boxes to go to Goodwill. That’s a relief. Now, we can go back into the parental storage unit and hopefully empty it out and close out that chapter. I have to start working on my office next. Oh, yay. But I kept thinking we were doing this “Swedish death cleaning” thing. Clearing out our extraneous junk so that nobody has to deal with it after we’re gone.

While we were on vacation we spent a lot of time talking about where we want to be in our lives and how we’re going to get there. I think this vacation was a big turning point for us. The Swedish death cleaning is a result of that. We now both have systems in place to get us moving towards something new. Right now, I’m not setting goals, I’m trying to create a system for simply doing something different and more fun.

This post is a bit rambling, but I’m still putting things together. Life is changing; I know it will be different and better. I’m not sure how we’re going to get there, but I know we will. Now, I just have to figure out this meditation thing so that I can get my stress levels down! Ha!

Image by analogicus from Pixabay

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Snow day!

An unexpected day off is always nice. People here always freak out about snow, but I will admit to wishing and hoping last night for a day off today. Got my wish a little before 7pm. It does tangle things up for classes, but that’s OK. I’d rather have the day off.

I was going to write something about being able to do/plan as I wish, but I think I’m just going to go read and write and maybe do some work for classes tomorrow.

If you are not getting a snow day today, my condolences. If you are, enjoy it!

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Suitcases

Who would have thought that something as simple and as worn as old roller bag suitcases could send me into a well of sadness? For the fourth Saturday, we have been cleaning out the storage unit where I put all my parents things after my dad died in 2013, and then added in the few remaining items when my mom passed in 2016. Yes, it’s been over five years that we’ve been paying for a 10×15 climate-controlled storage unit. Running out of estate money has made it a priority to clear things out.

Three weeks ago we took all the remaining furniture and bed to Good Will and to the dump. Two weeks ago we shifted everything remaining into a much smaller space and then took boxes of books home to sort through. The suitcases did not make it into the first run to the dump. Nor did they make it to the second run. Today, we planned on getting the rest of the books and figure out what, of what remained, would go to Good Will and what would go to the dump. This time, I knew the suitcases should go. As we were talking before we left the house, I started tearing up. There’s something about those suitcases that, more than any of the stuff/items/furniture I’ve been sorting through over the last month, most fully evokes my parents for me. I can picture them in my mind’s eye, walking steadily, if not rapidly, through various airports, pulling the bags behind them. Philly, Dublin, Munich, San Francisco, Portland, London, Tokyo, Hong Kong…they traveled a lot and enjoyed the hell out of it. Always with those roller bags.

Interestingly, they were the exceptions among their siblings. My mom’s sister would come out to Philly after my parent’s moved out here and she made one epic trip to South America, including Antarctica, with her second husband. But after that trip, she stuck to traveling between Sacramento and San Francisco, and then Philadelphia.

My uncle, my dad’s brother, hasn’t left the West Coast since he moved there after leaving the Navy. Now he lives in central Washington and travel is limited to driving down to Sunriver, Oregon, where we all meet up for a family reunion every year, and down to Napa Valley for short wine-tasting vacations. Other than that, they don’t travel. Of course, my aunt (uncle’s wife) doesn’t drive and is afraid to fly. That will limit your excursions.

I find that I’m sort of halfway in between. I love to travel, especially to Europe and around this country. But, I find that multiple trips in a couple of months are tiring and afterwards all I want to do is sit at home for about six months.

We got to the dump and while I was fussing with getting a couple of old lamps out of the back of the car, Mike got the suitcases and tossed them into the back of the trash truck. I didn’t even see them go, and I actually thought we’d forgotten to get them out of the car until we left. I’m glad I didn’t see them go. I tend to anthropomorphize things a lot and seeing them in the trash truck likely would have wrecked me.

It’s done and I’m okay with it. It was time. Who knew suitcases could evoke such emotions?

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Friday Thoughts: Attitudes

For a while now, I’ve been trying to make sure that I arrive at work in a good frame of mind. When I manage it, the day is definitely brighter and more productive. There are times when I arrive and begin my day feeling pretty good and optimistic, and then something happens to wreak my carefully created mindset. An email from administration or a student or the dean or simply hearing some news about a program/project on campus. Pretty much anything that brings reality crashing in too early can wreck a mood immediately. I have one colleague who is very good at maintaining a sense of optimism and hope in the face of things that appear to spell doom. I am trying to follow her example and maintain an optimistic, or at least not totally pessimistic, attitude.

Granted, this is all work-related and does not affect the rest of the world outside of campus. Nevertheless, it winds up indirectly (and sometimes directly) affecting my life and tends to create a negative cascading affect. This cascading effect then leads to me having a bad attitude towards work (as I do recognize the source of the bad mood), which means I don’t want to go in the next day, or I spend the next day phoning it in. Neither of these are useful attitudes, nor do they help to make me feel any better.

This week was not a particularly bad week. I gave exams on Tuesday and Wednesday, which meant I only had to teach one class Monday, and the usual load of three on Thursday. Pretty easy, and not nearly as tiring, compared to a normal week. But, it was also one of those weeks where a number of threads and pieces of information came together and a more complete picture started to form. This is not a pretty picture and foretells of more chaos in the coming weeks and months.

However, I’ve managed to maintain my good attitude towards work. Why? Well, the picture that is taking shape is reminding me and emphasizing for me that I am making the right decisions going forward. In fact, I feel like I will be followed by others. Still others will remain trapped of their own volition (tenure tends to remove your ability to recognize when you should jump ship).

So, my attitude today is one of refining my route and moving forward along it. I will keep moving forward and work at keeping my attitude positive and resilient.

Go have a positive weekend!

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Life and friends

Last night was a good night. I got to hang out with some friends I haven’t seen in a long while. Hubby was playing poker (hosted by the husband of one of said friends), so we each had separate social engagements. This is a very good thing. He got to hang out with a couple of our friends and some others, drink and play cards, and I got to see friends and talk chick things.

One thing I am reminded of when I meet up with this group of women is how lucky I am with regards to my husband. He’s thoughtful, supportive, and an equal partner in all things in our marriage. He does laundry, cooks, cleans, and takes care of a number of the grosser chores around the house (cleaning litter boxes for example). Last night I listened to the frustrations, anxieties and downright anger from two friends about their husbands. One has just told her husband that she wants a divorce. She has gone back and forth about this for several months now. She’s clearly not happy. Several times during the evening, as we were talking and she was describing some incident, or a reaction, she started tearing up. The other friend was having mild anxiety attacks as she listened to some of these issues. She’s also having problems with her husband and simultaneously dealing with her parent’s estate, trying to sell her childhood home, deal with a sister who doesn’t want to leave the house, a husband who seems ignorant of her wants, needs, desires, until and unless she spells them out. Multiple times. She wants to leave (I’m pretty sure), but she does not work outside the home and is unsure of her own skills and talents (which are numerous). Plus her daughter is pregnant and she is stressing over that as well.

As we all talked, I realized that I am very grateful for what I have. I have had a couple of bad relationships (patricide anyone??) but, I like to think that I learned from those relationships and avoided repeating the mistakes.

On the other hand, I felt a bit guilty. Not because I had nothing of consequence to complain about, but because I found myself thinking “you have said the same thing, made the same complaints for the last year or so. Do something!” Of course, without a job, and feeling like she has no skills, or is too old or whatever, makes contemplating leaving extremely scary. I cannot overlook that. I do try to remind her that she still has her skill set and that she is capable of taking care of herself. And, I try to dial back my annoyance (the annoyance is what makes me feel guilty).

All of this is by way of saying, life is funny. We fight some battles forever and always simply on the principle of the matter. Other battles, we seem to give up before the battle even starts. Lately I’ve been contemplating major life changes. Thinking about what I want to do/will be doing is very scary. There will be less money, we’ll be in a different city. This whole thing will take a lot of work and effort. And, there will be times when it won’t work out. But I’ll have to keep going. The more I think about what’s ahead, the more excited I am to get started. But then, I have started in many ways. While I still have a day job, my priorities are changing. This is going to be an interesting ride.

Life is funny. But, that’s what makes it an adventure.

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48 Hour Rule

It’s been a busy week; the first week of the semester is always cramped, stressed, and moving at the speed of light or the speed of molasses in January, depending on what exactly one is facing at any given moment. However, I have been generally, in a headline skimming sort of way, keeping up with the news and goings-on in the world. Switching back and forth between our national shenanigans and the Brexit shenanigans, I’m starting to run out of popcorn!

The one incident that did capture my attention was the kerfuffle surrounding some kids at the March for Life and a Native American elder, Nathan Phillips. The original story was based on comments from Phillips, a 64-year old political activist. He said that the kids were yelling “build the wall” (link goes to original story) and using racist comments towards him. And, that story went viral almost immediately with multiple calls for the kids to lose any college admissions, to be expelled from school, to closing the school, to rabid anti-Catholic screeds. In less than 8 hours however, the story was blown apart. Even CNN admits that the video flying around the internet was extremely selectively edited.

Several things have crossed my mind over the last 24 hours regarding this incident. One is that I will be discussing this with my students this week. The second one is, what do we call it when a 64-year old man harasses and confronts teenagers? Isn’t that bullying? Thirdly, you would think that by now, most people would realize that they should wait 48 hours before passing judgement on ANYTHING. Especially if it perfectly fits into a narrative you desperately want to believe.

I posted two different corrections on my FB page, the one from CNN and one from Reason. The response? Crickets. I had hoped that at least one or two people would step up and admit they had jumped in with full-throated condemnation before getting all the information. But, sadly, no. The desire to maintain the fiction that one’s view of something (the political opposition can never be right, even if the story one is relying on is false) appears to be so strong, that, publicly at least, people are afraid to admit they were wrong.

Unfortunately, public admission of falling for such traps is the only way we can begin to heal this great schism. That and telling media types that perpetuate this crap to take a hike.

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Friday Thoughts: Oops, I did it again

Totally didn’t get to my morning post. Still writing syllabi like a fiend. Oh, hey. What if a fiend really did write syllabi? What would those look like? Hmmmmm. Must. Work. On. Syllabi. Must. Not. Get. Distracted….

Seriously, back to work. More later.

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Coddiwomple

This word popped up on my FB memories thingy today. “Coddiwomple” means to travel purposely towards an as-yet-unknown destination. This is perfect for 2019. I’m coddiwompling into the year! Whee! The definition is a little bit off, I do know where I want to end up, I’m just not sure, right now, how I’m going to get there yet. I’m writing (in fact, I need to get back to it as soon as I finish this post), and I’m creating a vision of how I want my life to look (found those ideas from this book by Jen Sincero, along with inspiration from Scott Adams). This is not to say you can sit on your butt dreaming and expect it all to fall into place before your very eyes. There is a lot of work involved. But, this is what I want, so the work is almost immaterial. I will look back in a year and say, yes. It is all worth it.

At the same time, this is a very scary thing to contemplate. I find myself saying things like “Well, if it doesn’t work, I/we can always do X”. And, I have to remind myself, that no. X is not an option, not if we want to move forward with our lives and into a new, more fun, and more in our control life. Writing this blog, and writing fiction are my new world or worlds. I have discovered a creative streak in myself that I never knew existed. Or, rather, I knew there was a little something there, but the über-practical voices of my mother and grandmother were always reminding me that one could not, and should not try, to make a living being creative. So, I threw my energy elsewhere. I threw it into education and into being an educator and a researcher. But, now, 25 or so years on, I’m realizing I’m not happy. In fact, my annoyance trigger is dangerously close to the surface. And, right behind the annoyance trigger is the “I don’t give a f*&%” trigger. This is not a good thing. Regardless of how I feel about my life right now, I don’t need to be going off on students and colleagues. Bad form, as my dad would say.

So, sitting here on Day 9 of 2019, I’m going to go for what promises to be a cold, very cold, windy, walk, and then come back and write, write, write. And, then squeeze in some class prep and syllabus work. And, then continue to coddiwomple!

Go coddiwomple!