Losing power

We lost power for about 21 hours (about 8pm yesterday to 5pm today) due to the heavy snow weighing down power lines and knocking down power lines.  The longest we've been without power was during hurricane Isabel in Sept. 03--from about 5pm on a Thursday evening to about 7am Saturday.  But because it was Sept, we needed neither A/C nor heat.  Much different to lose power during the winter and have the house get colder and colder as the hours go by.  Raven got very anxious last night and was running up and down the stairs, in and out of our bedroom.  The Verizon box in our garage was beeping, and the noise upset her.

Earlier, when I was walking her around 7:30pm, we saw and heard a couple of light explosions--that must have been when our power went out.  When we got back to our street, she did not want to go back in our house.  At one point, I walked away without her to go back in the house (I rarely do something like that--I'm too afraid she'll run off).  When I turned around she was right behind me, but then went back across the street and sat down.  I finally had to pull her across to our walkway.  She must have sensed something was wrong, since no lights were on.  Funny how sensitive animals are.  She slept on our bed part of the night--she only does that when she's scared; she may also have been cold.  As she's gotten older, more things frighten her--rain (not just thunder and lightening), power flickers and outages, beeping noises.  She's afraid of my George Foreman cooker--I'm convinced it's because I was using it one time when our power went out--so she heard the beeping and then everything went dark at once.  She ran up and down the stairs (guess that's a sign of anxiety) and when I tried to comfort her she was actually shaking with fear.

We've never gone more than one night without heat, thankfully.  Much easier to deal with power outages during daylight hours.  We bided our time today by eating out and going to a movie--I think I would have been too cold to sit home and read.  I did that once in the house we used to live in--I was reading Angela's Ashes.  Seemed appropriate, somehow--I could feel the discomfort.  We take central heating for granted in this country.  And many other things, for that matter...

Too good to be true...

One of the yoga books I'm reading (by Erich Schiffmann) begins by discussing the benefits of yoga.  While the benefits for me haven't yet gone beyond the physical, I can always hope.  But as nice as it sounds, I can't help but question his assertion that "all the world will take on a friendly and nonthreatening glow as you see 'your' energy everywhere".  While I can strive to be more peaceful and see myself as one with the universe, I can't believe that the world will ever appear as he suggests it will.  How do we explain the Michelle Bachmans and Sarah Palins of the world?  And if some of us "...no longer see an evil, hostile world filled with alien and antagonistic forces..." won't we be at the mercy of the evil, hostile forces we're pretending we don't see?  I know I sound cynical, but if some of us let our guard down, it will be easier for those who aren't "enlightened" to pierce our flesh.  I can actually see a scenario under which some call for yoga practice to be banned--already being called for in some religions circles.

I think instead what I strive for is not to be so agitated by the evil forces, and perhaps to see more clearly how to mitigate their influence.  Not the same as pretending they don't exist.

Dog Days

I walked to the Starbucks today.  It's only about a 10 minute walk from my house, but I rarely walk there.  Partly because I also usually get my son a drink, and it would be cold(er) by the time I got it home.  But also because it's become a morning routine to take my dog, Raven, with me in the car.  She wasn't here today (cleaning day, so she's at doggie day care), so I didn't have to face her disappointment.  She would be very upset if I stopped taking her to Starbucks, even though it's a brief ride.  It's become part of her daily routine.

I'm not sure why I consider walking her to constitute exercise.  The walk consists of a stroll punctuated by many, many abrupt stops.  She eats everything (the more disgusting, the better), and most of her walk consists of hunting for stuff to eat.  I get exasperated with my husband for taking her to the commercial areas near our house--and then he complains when she eats chicken bones, or food that fell on the ground, or paper wrappers.  So I of course try to stay away from those areas--but now she's discovered what appears to be rabbit poop--little brown pellets that are everywhere, including our lawn.  So instead of trolling near the Safeway, she trolls every grassy area.  I can't win.

Today's WSJ had a discussion about winter dog coats.  Another frivolous "lifestyle" feature for the rich.  Oh, wait, I bought Raven a winter coat.  But I didn't spend hundreds of dollars on it.  OK, maybe $50.  I tell her she looks like a beautiful princess; my husband thinks it's stupid and superfluous and hard to work with.  The WSJ article indicated that dogs like her--black lab (some sort of mix in her case) don't need winter coats--they're built to withstand the cold.  But it did say that older dogs might need coats.  So that will be my new rationale.  Raven's almost eleven, although she still has the energy of a puppy.  A normal puppy, that is.  When she was a puppy she was a terror.

close to the surface

One of the signs that depression has emerged again is that I cry very easily--during movies, when a stranger cuts in line in front of me...the smallest things.  Yesterday I teared up during church, as the newest group of confirmees were being introduced.  Maybe I was thinking of my son's confirmation; I don't know.  But I had difficulty singing the next song.

Today was better--but I don't know why.  I don't feel so fragile.  I went to weigh a letter at the post office and was waiting for someone to leave the parking space.  While I was waiting, someone pulled in front of the person who was trying to leave.  Then another person pulled in front of them.  I get very agitated over situations such as these.  I gave up on the space I was planning to pull into (would have been much more difficult to get into) and started to go to a spot further up.  Then I thought about the fact that I'd be behind two rude people in line at the post office, and I didn't think I could handle that.  And I was squeezing in the stop before a physical therapy session--further adding to my agitation.  So I regrouped, left, and went to a post office that was closer to my PT appointment.  I decided if there wasn't enough time to take care of the mail before my appointment, I would leave and go back afterwards.  As it turned out, I had time to do what I needed and still find a great parking spot for my PT appointment.  (Living in a very urban suburb, street parking is often at a premium.  In this case it was in front of a hospital--a prime spot, and enabling me to avoid the parking garage.)  I felt good about the fact that I observed my feelings and reactions and came up with a strategy that reduced my agitation.

In my quest to get back into meditation, I went to a noon meditation class at the local yoga studio.  I was a little late, since I forgot I wanted to do it--but remembered right around the start time as I was driving home.  I had trouble sitting (right hip hurt from therapy session), but stuck with it.  And my chin itched from the Proactiv I put on it to get rid of the acne that has broken out once again along the chin line.  These are the things that happen when I try to meditate.  And it's one of the few times when I can really hear the white noise in my right ear (tinnitus from the Meniere's disease).  But I stayed with it--almost fell asleep a few times, I think (had that jolting sort of movement).  So today I've done my neck and facial exercises (my alternative to a facelift), had my PT to strengthen my right leg (quad injury from August that never healed properly), meditated, walked the dog and did my breath exercises.  I still need to vocalize (will do after I finish here), yoga and upper body weight lifting.  Things to do with the TV on (not the vocalizing, the others).

the battle for control...

I've debated writing about this in a blog, but since I'm writing for myself this feels more like a diary.  I figure as long as I talk about myself (and not my family) I won't be violating any confidences or telling someone else's story.  But one of the reasons I struggle with unscheduled time is that my mind, free to wander, goes to the place it's most comfortable--the regrets, the losses, the failures, the anxieties, the self-doubt.  There's a certain comfort in these thoughts--so what I've been used to letting them go unchallenged for decades.  I never had behavior therapy, so I've tried to learn on my own how to replace those thoughts with other thoughts--or in the case of meditation, with nothing (hence the mantra).  Walking is supposed to be (or can be) a form of meditation--but I noticed when I was walking yesterday that I was going over and over the same thoughts that have haunted me for years.  But part of me feels comfortable with those thoughts--I grew up with them, literally.  When I try to replace them with "you can do it" types of thoughts, I don't really believe them.  So blanks--mantras--that crowd out the old thoughts work best.  But it is work; it's a battle.  When I'm weary I just want to live with the old thoughts.  I don't know whether it helps to write about this or not.  I guess I'll find out.

drink more water...

...that's what one of my son's notes to himself says.  This past weekend we had one of our intensive yoga training sessions, and heard a couple of presentations by a doctor (one about the endocrine system, the other about the digestive system).  I know the guidance to drink 8 glasses of water a day has been out there for a long time.  I remember by next door neighbor placing a pitcher of water on her kitchen counter every day when I was growing up--when she drank the pitcher she knew she'd had 8 glasses.  Then this guidance seemed to be debunked more recently--and people have written about the fact that one can drink too much water and die.  I know I had slacked off from drinking lots of water.

But this doctor kept going back to "not enough water" as the root of many problems.  Such as poor digestion, constipation, hernias; even frequent trips to the bathroom.   She claims that drinking more water will dilute whatever's in the kidneys (or wherever the stuff hangs out--I've already forgotten) and enable the body to hold the water longer.  Anyway, after I'd finished relaying the info to my husband and son, my son said that I had convinced him to drink more water.  And my husband was shocked when I told him one loses more water drinking coffee than before they had the coffee--even though coffee is made with water.  It's the caffeine, apparently, which acts as a diuretic.

I'm feeling thirsty...

splurging on brushes...

One of the items I lost when my carry on bag was left behind was my hairbrush--a Mason Pearson brush I had bought at Nordstrom several years ago.  I really liked that brush, and it was expensive--Mason Pearson makes perhaps the most expensive hairbrushes on the market.  But they're supposed to last a lifetime if you take care of them properly.  Losing a brush doesn't constitute proper care.  So I set about replacing the brush (and the yoga books--but not camera or headphones--at least not yet).  Turns out Nordstrom no longer sells Mason Pearson brushes, and I couldn't find any other brick and mortar store that did.  So I started researching brushes, and found that Mason Pearson still gets high marks, overall.  I also learned that, at least according to one web site, a combination of boar and nylon bristles is best. (I would have gone full boar if I hadn't checked).  Then I had to decide which size--the Popular or the Junior.  I had no idea what size my old brush was, so after some deliberation I went with the larger "Popular".  Still not sure--I probably could have gotten away with the "junior".  But while I was at it, I decided to buy two of their combs--detangling and rake combs.  Not sure why I did this--guess I was swayed by the "hand made" designation and some of the reviews.

My hair is (still) thick, I'm trying to grow it longer, and it tangles easily.  So I decided I wanted products that hopefully won't pull out a lot of hair.  So many women my age opt for shorter styles--I've decided to go long--makes me feel younger.  And who knows how long I'll have thick hair--might as well have a last fling.  I'm trying to see how long I can go without seeing my hair stylist--I started going once every 4 weeks, when my bangs would start to get too long, but she was cutting everything short.  One time she wasn't there when I went (a scheduling mix-up), so someone else cut my hair and suggested that I go for a longer look.  Maybe that's what gave me the idea.  I trim my own bangs to keep from going to the salon, but at some point I'll need to go to trim and layer the top a bit.  The last time I went was in mid-December, to have highlights done.  I could tell my hairdresser wanted to cut my hair, but I wouldn't let her--I only let her trim my bangs.  She did a good job--she does the whole front, not just the bangs on my face.  I could tell she wanted to do more--kept asking if she could trim this or that.  I let her do a little, but  that was it.  I'm hoping to hold out about another month--I can tell my hair would benefit from the bang trim she does, as well as some light trimming.  It just seems that once hairdressers get going, they can't stop.  I want to make sure my hair is long enough to withstand a trim and still be long.

I look at it this way--what I spent on Mason Pearson brush and combs (about $200), I can save by getting my hair cut less frequently.

Singing Blues

I listened to my singing voice on a recorder--was shocked at how it sounded--not a voice I would want to hear.  Too much vibrato, not a pleasant sound.  I was hoping it was the recording device, so I switched to Audacity--same result.  No, not professional quality, but I'm guessing Linda Ronstadt would still sound good.  Made me rethink my plans to join a folk singing group.

And I struggle with attitude at church choir.  I woman has recently joined (rejoined, apparently) the choir temporarily while she waits for unrest to subside in the country where she's been working.  She has taken "my spot" in the front row--I fended her off initially by getting there early, but since I haven't been there in a few weeks she has firmly established herself in the front row and crowded me out to the second row.  The irony is that she complained to a (longstanding member) woman who had taken "her spot" in the front row.  I overheard her say "I prefer to be in the same spot..."  Yet she never asked whether she was taking anyone's spot when she joined in (OK, interloped).  But the real resentment on my part is that she has a big voice and I don't.  So I'm crowded out vocally as well, which isn't hard to do.  Let's call her Brunnhilde.

I'm trying to develop a more even, yogic approach--doesn't work to control the anger, so I tried to find positives.  I could hear myself better in the second row, and sat next to an older lady who readily voices her opinions--which can be amusing.  My real issue with sitting in the second row is that one of the singers pretty consistently sings flat, which aggravates me--but she wasn't there yesterday.

Fact is, my voice is small and wears out quickly.  So I can't compete with Brunnhilde.  But I do have a good ear (absolute pitch) and sight read notes extremely well (rhythms a bit more difficult).  At rehearsal after church I sat away from Brunnhilde (so I could hear myself and sort of hold my own if she made a mistake).  In fact, I sat apart from everyone.  But I noticed one woman looking at me as we sight read.  She finally asked to sit next to me so I could help her.  Made me feel good.

I haven't done my vocal exercises since I listened to my recorded voice.  I will start again tomorrow (I prefer to do them when the family's not around, and today's a holiday.)  And I will go back to doing the breath control exercises I had been doing, to try to strengthen my voice.

We had one of our monthly yoga training sessions this past weekend, and did some pranayama (breath work).  That helped remind me how useful breathing exercises can be, and note the similarities between yoga breathing techniques and singing techniques.  There are some differences, but I gravitate toward, and seek out, the similarities when I do comparisons.

First Chair Yoga Class

It's not the same as teaching exactly, since I'm using a video.  But since I'm working with seniors and doing chair yoga, I feel safer using a video.  But I still felt responsible for what people thought of it.  They seemed to like it--we'll see who comes back.  But one lady wasn't happy--she was speaking to a friend in another language, so all I could decipher was "yoga...yoga"  before she walked out.  I first thought she didn't like the slow start, and/or the fact that there is more speaking (her English isn't good).  But it may be that she thought I was going to use a different video.  She had brought an exercise video to me at the start of the class--I thought she was just returning it.  But she came back at the end of the class and asked for the video.  So maybe she thought I was going to use the video she had borrowed, and was disappointed to find out that I was going "yoga".  But with my personality, I have trouble not taking things like that personally. I'll check with the activities director to see if she can figure out what happened.

But I like doing this--I would prefer not to use the video, but I think people like the video--and I haven't done chair yoga before.  We'll see how this progresses...

Taking stock...

It's been a year since I left my job, and I'm ruminating a lot about what I have and haven't done over the past year.  I find it harder to explain to people what I do each day; I think it's because I'm trying to explain it to myself.  Not working for pay weights heavily on me.  I have an offer to work for entry-level research pay.  The pay itself doesn't bother me, but working full time does--would make it harder to keep the flexibility I like to have.  But I suppose that means the pay bothers me--I might not mind giving up the flexibility if I were getting paid something closer to what I left behind.

Need to Un-Whine

I've had difficulty feeling comfortable skiing, which is pretty standard for me.  Boots are heavy, skis are heavy, clothes are heavy.  And I'm the only person who's still wearing a one-piece ski suit.  I noticed that a year or two ago--one pieces just disappeared.  Not sure why, but I finally told my family this was the last year for mine--hard to keep the sleeves from falling on the ground when you go to the bathroom; feels somewhat restricting when I try to stand up straight.  But my biggest whining had to do with seeing--ever since I stopped being able to wear contacts (dry eyes) I've had much more difficulty seeing while I'm skiing.  Last year I made the mistake of bringing my glasses that automatically turn dark in the sun (I forget what that's called).  The glare of the snow makes the glasses turn dark, even when it's not sunny.  So last year I was caught in a storm where I literally could not see--glasses turned nearly black, can't see with or without them, whiteout snow conditions.  I could tell which way was down, and that was it.

So this year I didn't make that mistake, but I still have trouble with fogging when it's snowing and I'm trying to ski.  Glasses fog under the goggles, so I can't wear the goggles, which protect my eyes and cut down on glare.  So I whined about that--kept reapplying Cat Crap, which is supposed to help but doesn't when it's snowing.  I decided to take a day off from skiing (yesterday) to un-whine.

Fortunately, it didn't snow today so I could wear the goggles over the glasses without either fogging up.  But next year I may try to get contacts to wear for skiing--without the bifocals, which don't work for me anyway.  And I'm definitely getting a new (two piece) ski outfit.   But I'll stick with Spyder; my one-piece is very warm and has some nice features.  For a one-piece

Eat, Pray, Lose...

I think I was destined not to read Eat, Pray, Love.  My first copy disappeared when my beach bag was swiped at Virginia Beach last August.  My son bought me a new copy for Christmas--a creative and thoughtful gesture.  So I started reading it (again), got a little farther (but must still admit it did not draw me in), and packed it to take on our ski trip.  We left quite early yesterday, and were cutting it close, so I stood in line at the check in counter while my husband and son said they would take care of the bags.  They didn't bring the bags to where I was standing--they waited by the counter--so I didn't realize that my carry on bag was missing until we were checking in. By then the taxi was long gone.  I was stunned--lots of emotions--as in "I can't count on them..."  But I held my tongue--doesn't do any good once something has gone wrong.  I've learned that I won't rely on anyone else to take care of my stuff.  So of course, Eat, Pray, Love is in the missing bag.  Along with a couple of yoga books I was planning to use to develop class routines (now I have another excuse not to do this...), our camera, headphones, hairbrush, small liquids...  And of course all of my medications.  I tell my son never to check medications--to keep them with him.  Usually is good advice.

Luckily I hung on to my computer--my instincts told me not to let it out of my sight.  Should have done the same for my carry on bag, obviously.  Yesterday I replaced what I could at the local drug store (they don't even have a CVS or Walgreens here, so selection was limited).  Tried to take a poised, yoga-ish outlook--something that can be hard for me.

Besides, it's possible we left it on the curb outside our house.  But most likely it stayed in the taxi.  I've called the taxi company's lost and found, so far to no avail.  But they haven't connected with the driver, so it's still possible that he has the bag.  If, by the time we return home, the bag hasn't turned up, I'll come up with a replacement plan for the more expensive items.  But I'm not getting another copy of Eat, Pray, Love.  Not unless I put it in something I want to get rid of...