March, 14, 2014

Things are beginning to thaw on the other side of the polar vortex.

The sun appears in the sky more often and stays there longer. 

The days are extended.

And I am writing again.

My apologies to my loyal readers…all 10 or 12 of them.

I realize that the idea of a blog is to write…regularly. So, off we go.

Once my employment benefits ran out, (and by the way there is news on that front…I got a news alert from CNN today that said that there was progress on a vote to extend long-term unemployment benefits for 5 months. Good News, although I’m not certain that i will qualify to file a new claim. Just have to wait and see.) I continued to keep a daily log of my job search activities. I figured it was good discipline and kept me on the right path, even though it was only required by the state to continue to receive the paid benefits.

Once March arrived and I had come so close to getting that 3-month freelance job for the start-up magazine, and after ordering the new computer, printer, desk and chair to set up my little office here in 53965, I took a week off from the daily log to clean out Mom’s old upstairs bedroom. I sorted and cleared and tossed and recycled for hours, to make room for my desk. I painted over the faded flower wallpaper with 4 coats of KILZ (bright white) on just one wall…the one facing the front of the house with the morning sun and great all-day light. I swept and washed the wood floors. 

A shell-encrusted flamingo found among the boxes
 and why I needed 4 coats of KILZ over the wallpaper.

While I was sorting through boxes and bags of old mail and papers, cards and letters, magazines and saved but yellowed newspaper articles, I found quite a few gems, including my Mother’s diary, written in her 16th year. She has since taken it downstairs to her current bedroom, scolded me, laughing, “That’s personal, you shouldn’t be reading that…” She has it on her bedside table where she reads a page or two and tries to remember all the people who are attached to all the names written on the pages. She shared some of those pages with my brother and sister and I the other night.

Dear Diary. Mom's 15th year.

Madame Bruni and the "crowned heads of Europe."

There was a card from her Aunt tucked into the pages, a card that was answering a question asked about her Grandparents and their Norwegian ancestry.  It seems that we had a quite potentially famous Opera singer in the family, who went by the name of Madame Bruni and who had once performed for the “Crowned Heads of Europe” as a young woman.

Who knew?

Certainly none of us, although Mom didn’t seem that surprised by the news.

I found old advertisements and illustrations, old Valentine’s Day cards we used to send (and receive) as young children. I found billing statements for Dr. Carlson, our childhood dentist. The fee for my sister was $12.00, for my brother and for me? $1.00. Those were the days.

Old Advertising. Gems.

Childhood Valentines Day cards.

Instructions for the use of pantyhose.

My computer, an iMac; my desk and chair (from IKEA), my printer…they all arrived in a couple of days and when I finished all the superficial “updating” of the room with that one fresh wall of paint and a clean floor, I set up my little office. I am ready now for anything that comes my way…and more.

Well…almost ready.  There were a few small challenges to my master plan.  There are no electrical outlets in this room and if there is one thing that modern technology needs, it’s electricity!

In discovering the absence of any electrical outlets in that particular room, I actually discovered that there were absolutely NO electrical outlets upstairs at all, with the exception of one lone outlet in the room that Harry and I are calling home. I bought a power strip (a surge protector, because who knows what is going on with the electricity in this old house?) and a 40 foot long extension cord. I set about tacking it down to the floor originating directly between Harry’s and my identical twin inflatable mattresses (his now covered in the circus-themed comforter), along the floorboards, to the corner of the room, past the closet, around the door frame and out the door, across the hall, around the door frame and corner of Mom’s old bedroom, in front of that closet and to the computer. Works like a charm.

The other challenge was the elusive Internet. 

And elusive it was.

I made calls to Verizon, my cell phone carrier, but that was a bad idea. I can’t even get a decent signal to make a phone call here. And if I do manage to get a signal to make a call, it drops just slightly after “Hello?” And for those reasons, a Verizon hotspot didn’t seem a feasible idea in this area.

I called Frontier Communications. I talked to two different fellows in central and south Florida. Why I was talking to Florida about an Internet connection in south central Wisconsin, I have no idea. They really wanted to sell me the whole package; TV, Internet, phone, streaming this and that. I just wanted to be able to use the Internet. I finally got hooked up with a deal that I thought would be the answer. We made appointments and I waited. 

I got a call one afternoon to confirm my appointment, but the appointment was for a different date and time. I agreed to the new details, after explaining that was not what was recorded in my calendar. Then the fellow actually said he was available the next morning, so we set the date. We had just had another blast of cold from Mother Nature and a few more inches of snow. He came. Wandered around the back, side and front yards and determined that there were exactly two places that a pole with a satellite dish facing the clear southwestern sky would make my connection dreams come true. Then he delivered the bad news. Because of the frost levels or depths (this year’s being extremely deep) he wouldn’t be able to dig a pole for a month. And he was gone.

I got back on the phone…to Florida.

They checked and re-checked and called and talked with supervisors and supervisors’ supervisors, but it was true. There was apparently, absolutely no way...in the year 2014...to dig a hole in the ground when it’s cold. 

I abandoned Frontier Communications and sought out another option.

I asked Harry’s home school teacher, Miss Margie, who her carrier was. I knew from Harry’s infatuation with The Nutcracker and the Winter Olympics that they had cable television, at least. And Miss Margie seemed to be a kind of connected person. She couldn’t stop talking about Reedsburg Utilities. (Reedsburg is a small town, about 25 minutes drive from here.) They had switched from Frontier (big surprise) and couldn’t be happier. The speed was lightning, the cost was one third of their previous bill and the package even included NetFlix. Unfortunately for us, we cross a county line when we drop Harry at School. Reedsburg Utilities serves Sauk County and not Juneau. Juneau, of course, being our county.

While I was interrogating Miss Margie, Mom had been doing her own investigating and found that our neighbors to the rear of the property used US Cellular for their Internet and television (at least streaming videos).  This news on the heels of a story that they had violated some law, (US Cellular, not our neighbors) doing some thing, some where and were paying a massive fine to their customers. I wasn’t that thrilled to find that this was a viable option and one that I would actually, finally commit to. 

The initial phone call wasn’t terrible, but took way longer than it should have. I’d say about 30 to 40 minutes, give or take. The fellow on the phone said the “equipment” (which is a hotspot just slightly larger than a credit card, but an inch thick) would be sent two-day air and arrive in 4 days. Yes. That is what he said. Two-day air, arrive in 4 days. 

It did arrive as promised. Then came the phone calls. 

I called to activate the hotspot, but I wasn’t listed on the account. Strange, since I spent those 30 to 40 minutes a few days earlier, adding ALL my information to that account and confirming it more than once. I called Mom, who had to call US Cellular, and then had to call me, who than had to call US Cellular...again, and the device was finally activated. At this point, we had achieved success. We had access to the Internet! I went online to register the hotspot so that I could check data usage and pay the account online, etc. 

More calls.

I had to fill in some information like account number, etc. and it would generate a PIN, which I would enter into the electronic form and it would allow me to complete the registration and establish an online account. But it would not generate the PIN.  I would get an email saying that a PIN was sent, but there was no PIN on the device.  It was frustrating. I called Customer Service.

I talked to a young woman who tried to help me, but couldn’t, then explained that I would have to go physically into a US Cellular office to get that fixed. My device, my computer…all at my house. Why in the world would I go into an office, miles away, to fix what I needed fixed?

I asked for her supervisor. 

She was pleasant. She tried to help me, but couldn’t. She said she would connect me to technical support.  I thought that I was already connected to technical support, but O.K., technical support. The technical support woman greeted me pleasantly, apologized for all the trouble I was having and assured me that she could solve the issue. Then… she hung up on me!

Sigh.

I called again. I was sent fairly quickly to technical support after explaining my day spent with US Cellular employees. The fellow was pleasant and we got right to work.  We tried the same thing over and over and over and over again. Seriously, so many times. I finally said, fairly exasperated at this point, “I’ll try this one more time and that’s it for today. It is not how I intended to spend my day.” The tech fellow laughed, rather nervously. 

And it actually worked!

We had done the same exact thing at least 13 times, but the last time, it worked. I was registered and could start to view my data usage. The problem solver fellow stayed on the phone until I went through the entire registration, step by step, and clicked on the page where I should actually be able to see my data usage. (I had only signed on for a 3GB data package and was anxious to see what a day online would consume, so that I could estimate whether or not the plan I’d chosen was the correct plan or if I’d be paying severe overages.) So, I’d gotten to the page where I could see that data use. The page where I was greeted with a simple, one-line statement written in ALL RED LETTERS: “We are unable at this time to show the data usage for this account.”

Seriously? 

It seems that technology isn’t always proceeding at lightning speed and although I was indeed connected to the Internet - a miracle in itself - the account would need some time to “catch up” to my use. 

I said my final goodbyes to the US Cellular Customer Service team and rejoiced in finally…finally having access to the Internet right here in Mom’s slightly...drafty...old farmhouse.

Morning. Sunshine in the sky.

February 28, 2014

Last day of February.

Very cold today. Feels like -8 degrees below zero.

Coldest temperatures of the Century for some.  I think we might be included, if not officially then certainly by mere personal opinion.

I got the email that I was so excitedly waiting for from the possible 3-month freelance job this morning and unfortunately they have decided to continue working with their current picture editor. It was difficult to read, difficult to accept. But accept it, I did...and quickly. There is absolutely no time to fret over the proverbial spilt milk. 

The email was very complimentary about my experience, my ideas, my resume, my organization and my aesthetic and left room for working together in the future. Again, even rejection done in the most professional and kind way...is still rejection. It's tough. But resiliency is one of my acquired characteristics, having to bounce back from my share of disappointment in 53 years on the earth.

In the least, I've made a new friend named Molly. And that...is a good thing.

(I do feel as though I should quickly send off an email to another friend and former school mate who is so keenly worried about Harry and me...tell him I still have hope, still have some possibilities and that I still voraciously devour all the job search websites, network groups and keep in touch with my friends in the business absolutely every day. And that March begins tomorrow. We are getting closer and closer to spring and renewal. And that, too...is a good thing.) 

Sigh.

The record cold continues and even the heartiest of the long-time residents have begun to complain about the temperatures. My sister leaves for work every morning at 6:30 a.m., for her job at a local school as the self-proclaimed "lunch lady." She's greeted temperatures of minus 13 degrees the last few mornings. "Boy, that's cold!" She's said while shuddering her shoulders for added emphasis. And everything is covered with solid ice. Warming temperatures one day, met by the liquid melt and refreeze of another day, left Mom's (and my sister's) driveway a solid sheet of ice. 

Tracks over solid ice.

Mom bought about 50 pounds of playground sand to sprinkle over the entire driveway (always keeping the environment in mind, she chose sand over the myriad of ice melts available here.) There's a light layer of new snow over the ice which reveals some of the animals that frequent the yard. There were opossum tracks (although my brother-in-law says they are raccoon and I have yet to look them up in Mom's local wildlife book for authentication), birds, rabbits and one group that I couldn't really identify, nor could anyone else.

Opossum?

Bird on the front steps.

We are making a big trip to Costco Saturday morning...in Madison.  Family outing. My sister, her daughter and her daughter's daughter, Mom, Harry and me, all stuffed into my sister's van. Options for shopping are limited and I've expressed my feelings in the past about the local Wal-Mart, so I won't do that again. It's nice to have the option of Costco, only 50 miles by major highway. We haven't made the trek in some time and we all have our own lists and lists of other family members.

Selfie in the late afternoon winter light.

Looking forward to the season of renewal, I'm thinking of starting some seed plants that Harry and I can plant when the ground begins to thaw. The growing season is short in Wisconsin it seems, but growing up we had a wonderful vegetable garden and a beautiful cut-flower garden. I'd like Harry to have that experience too, but perhaps not on the scale as when we were children. The gardens were huge and took a great deal of attention and tending to. It is a very fond memory, though, seeing things come to life and to grow to produce the vibrant colors of tomatoes, carrots, onions, Irises, Zinnias, sunflowers and many other things. And looking back on the size of the two gardens, it's all the more an impressive memory!

Maybe we'll make that a little journey this weekend as well, buying seedlings to start Harry's garden and making new memories of renewal, growth and childhood.

February 25, 2014

Harry and I went on a picnic last week. Yes, a picnic…in the dead of winter…in Wisconsin.  We packed up a little bag of snacks and walked into the woods to find just the right spot. Harry used to eat quite well as a baby, every single kind of fruit and vegetable you can imagine. He loved pears and parsnips and spinach! Rutabaga and kale and kiwi! As he grew into toddlerhood, he ate tuna and salmon and peanut butter for proteins. When he started going to school, he stopped eating peanut butter. We couldn’t send it along to school for lunch – too many children with nut allergies. School was a nut free zone. So he stopped eating it at home too. And for some reason, he started refusing the fish as well.

Although I know vitamins aren’t ideal and can’t replace the nutrients of actual food, he does get a daily dose of all natural vegetable and fruit gummy vitamins, but he refuses most real food. He has his favorites and is not often inspired to try new things. He eats yogurt (Mango and Honey), Vermont extra sharp cheddar cheese, Stacy’s crackers – he calls them Cracker Crackers – bananas, applesauce, bread, Goldfish, the occasional graham cracker, waffles, pancakes, Chex, and Cheerios. Grandma has managed to sneak into the mix an infrequent Apricot or Peach yogurt and he has gobbled it down while distracted watching The Adventures of Peter Rabbit on his iPad. He actually asked to try a grape tomato, a firm little red gem, the other day. I was thrilled! He bit it quickly in half and then handed it back to me with his little nose scrunched up as far as it could scrunch “Um, I don’t like this.” I wasn’t surprised by his reaction. I was thrilled that he wanted to try it. Small victories.

Just across the street and half way down the road through the woods to my sister’s house, sits Uncle Gilbert’s ice shanty, a perfect place for a winter picnic. It’s kind of just parked there, in the woods, not on the ice. Our picnic was grand. We sat on old car seats, ate bananas and looked out the little window in the door into the woods.  Harry wore a red and white fuzzy Santa hat. He’s been wearing the hat (borrowed from Auntie Laura’s collection) almost constantly since he saw The Polar Express last week  (probably for the 483^rd time) at my niece Rebecca’s house. He viewed it on what I believe is a 50-inch screen. Quite a treat since our regular viewing is done on Grandma’s old Quasar! We’ve been reading “'The Night Before Christmas” – two different versions of the holiday classic – at bedtime, Harry’s choice. He talks about Santa all the time too. This is the first year that he’s been so enthralled with all the details of Christmas, The Nutcracker, the baby Jesus and the Nativity…and so unwilling to put them away until next year. He is four.

On our way to the picnic.

A banana in the ice shanty.

I’m feeling a little cautiously excited these days. With the help of emails and phone calls from friends and colleagues, I’ve found two full-time positions to apply to and one possible freelance position that is incredibly intriguing.  I’ve got a conference call appointment tomorrow morning at 10 a.m. Of course when I made that appointment, I had daycare lined up for Harry (Miss Margie is on her second week of vacation) and a clear landline for the call.  Since then my niece has cancelled on the daycare, she’s ill. And there is absolutely no possible way to have a business call with Harry in the room.  He is of the age when he MUST have all my attention all of the time. “Watch this, Mommy.  Watch this.  Mommy, you’re not watching. Mommy! Watch this,” as he flies back and forth in and out of the living room whirling his arms around his chest, chugging and puffing and huffing and chuffing his best train imitation. Everyone is pitching in to try to solve the challenge.  Mom has volunteered to take a half-day off.  That is quite generous, but a horrible idea just to cover for a phone call. My sister suggested I call my niece Sarah, who she believes has the day off and might be able to come to the house to entertain Harry. She’s quite good with him and he would be fine with her.  The last resort really is to walk him over to my sister’s house and leave him with Gilbert, my sister’s husband.  It’s not that he’s not capable, but his interaction with Harry is usually to tease and torture him (in a Uncle Gilbert kind of way.)  I have an Uncle Bernie and when we were kids, we used to try like anything to escape his two-handed tweak of our cheeks as he said “Hello.” It’s that kind of thing with Gilbert and Harry.  Gilbert wants to tickle him or dangle him upside down or something equivalent.  My sister wants to know if I reach Sarah, my Mom wants to know if I reach Sarah. I’ve left a message on her phone…a new phone since her old one was stolen a couple of weeks ago. Everything is on hold…literally.

I’m excited about the possibilities of the freelance opportunity. It’s with a very nicely done start-up magazine (that I probably shouldn't mention by name just yet, but it explores the ideas of making connections between what we eat, how we live and the planet) and was very generously sent my way by my dear friend (and former colleague) Dina.  She’s a sweetheart to constantly keep Harry and I in her thoughts (and a sweetheart to keep reading my blog.)

Growing things.

I was SO excited about the possibilities of sustaining Harry’s and my existence by freelancing from here that I started investigating a new iMac with a 27 inch screen and smoking processor, memory and storage. It would be an investment in our future, but a necessary one to handle the work I will be doing. I will also need to bring the Internet to Mom's slightly drafty old farmhouse. That...is change. 

That change will involve a satellite dish. I asked Mom if she would mind putting that sort of thing on her roof and she hesitated a long while. "Mom?" I said, wondering if she'd heard me.  "Well, it's a brand new roof!" She said, quickly exasperated. I think they might be able to put it on the side of the house. It just has to have a clear angle in the southwest sky. We can and will certainly avoid the brand new roof.  There aren't a lot of options in the hinterlands of Wisconsin, so we'll have to make due. 

I've got a lot to figure out in very little time. I need my own little office here in 53965. And that has given me that lump in the throat, kind of sick feeling I get when I'm excited and nervous and happy all at once.

It's a great feeling.

Orange at the orange store, Home Depot.

February 21, 2014

Being unemployed for 7 months has afforded me a great deal of time for introspection. Maybe too much time. I know I made some mistakes professionally, in the course of my career. And in that, I think I am among the many, not among the few. Thankfully, there were no major irreversible ones. And I’ve definitely made some mistakes personally. I have had a lot of time to consider those mistakes…and to think about the kind of person I am and the kind of person I’ve always wanted to be. It’s actually something that I’ve always thought about on some level…because I was raised by a mother who was very loving, thoughtful, self-sacrificing, and just plain kind. She taught us (my sister, brother and me) to be grateful, to appreciate small things, to notice the beauty of the world in everything and to follow the Golden Rule, of course.

Winter white Hydrangea.

In the last few years in Boston, I think I unconsciously suspended that “molding-of-self” while trying to just plain catch up with life. At times, just surviving took priority. We’d gone through a lot of change in the office. I was constantly sleep deprived. I was preoccupied with the wrong things and putting what energy I did have into worrying about what was wrong instead of how much I had been blessed.

I’ve always tried to live a life of gratitude, grateful for the smallest of things. I would always say an audible “Thank you” to the Parking Fairy when I came upon a great parking spot in Boston. Enjoyed the blue, blue skies and the starry nights. And actually, really, stopped to smell the flowers along the way. (And I’ve been teaching Harry to do the same.)

Smelling the flowers along the way.

Blue, blue skies.

But when you are unhappy about one thing or another (or many things) and if you are not cognizant of the power of sadness, you can be swallowed whole. I never went completely off track, Harry kept me righted, but I did derail a few times. I don’t know if any of that really makes sense. Suffice it to say that there are things that I wished I had handled differently. That…is what life is all about though, isn’t it? Experiencing, making mistakes, learning along the way and hopefully ending up in a better place…molded as a better human. It’s all a journey. And a bumpy one at that.

I had gone to a spiritualist named Souda, recommended by a good friend, for a “reading,” for the first time several years ago. I suppose some might think that’s a bit…well…nuts, depending on your belief system. I wasn’t really sure what I believed before I went, but I trusted my friend, so I went. After sitting and listening to her tell me about me…well, I was convinced that she had some kind of something. She told me that angels and spirits talked to her, told her things. She knew specifics - not just generalities - and she offered me some advice that was, after all, just plain common sense: “Live a life of gratitude. Begin every day conscious of what you are grateful for and the blessings that you have.”  She said she knew that I was sad. Granted, it wouldn’t have taken a psychic to see that. Professionally, I was very dissatisfied, actually unhappy. Personally I’d lost a close relationship, a good friend and I was struggling at times as a single parent. She described my aura as gray…very gray.  I didn’t like hearing that. Gray is fine for ferocious thunderstorms but not for humans. I did not want to be gray.

I thought about what she said every single day, made it a conscious part of my day. I thought about my blessings. I spoke them out loud, as I ran errands, did the laundry, cleaned the floor. Even after I was told that my position was being eliminated, I tried to see the blessings hidden in that devastating moment. And I did. It happened on a Monday morning, but by Wednesday, even not knowing what the future would be, I was calmer, less stressed…relieved, really.

Before I left Boston, after being unemployed for 3 months, I returned to Souda once again. I certainly had less stress in my life…well, a completely different kind of stress than what I experienced at the office every day. I had no idea how miserable I was in that position, until I wasn’t in that position any more. That is quite possibly not a great thing to say when you are currently unemployed and hope to be employed again soon, but the truth is that I had done all that I could do in that position – accomplished a great deal and had great successes. So much had changed, though, and it just wasn’t where I was supposed to be anymore.

I wanted to know if Souda could see a change too. I felt very different than I had the day that she described me as gray. I went to see her again.  Immediately after her always spirited and smiling greeting “Hello, my dear,” she said she could see happiness in my eyes and in my spirit. She said my aura was yellow and that she expected it to be pink very soon and that was very, very good. (Harry’s favorite color is pink.) She said that I was on the right path.  She said that Harry and I would be fine. “No despair,” she said, “there will be an offer.” “There will be an offer.” And she kept repeating that. She was referring to a job offer. She had given me hope - hope that I still have…for a job where I can maintain my pink aura and my grateful existence.

It’s not easy…maintaining pink. But everything in life takes effort.

Seven months of unemployment is a long time…a long time to maintain the pink. It’s been filled with emotional ups and downs. And has coincided with some of the coldest winter temperatures on record in Wisconsin. And if you don’t think that adds to the challenge, you should spend a winter here.

It is late February and winter will soon be over. And then comes the season of renewal and reinvention. The journey I’ve been on all along.

I got an email from my friend and former college schoolmate. The subject line said “Winter is not going to last much longer…” He had been reading my blog and he was worried about me. I emailed him to tell him that I was fine. The blog was just a place to write about the journey, that my feelings about this whole process were normal (as far as I know). And that if I weren’t worried about Harry’s future and our future together, there would certainly be something wrong with me.

Many, many friends and colleagues have reached out to me to offer words of encouragement along the way. And frankly complete strangers that I’ve struck up a conversation with at Starbucks or in the grocery check out line have as well. They are all certain that there is something out there for me. Something...where I will thrive and be happy. I am so grateful for those people and their support. Their words of encouragement always seem to drop into my email just about the time I need a little boost. I don’t wish this situation on anyone, certainly. Being unemployed, living with family, single parenting a small child and now without unemployment benefits or any income at all.  I don’t know what we are going to do, but I will figure it out.

I applied today for two different positions based in Washington D.C., both that I am very qualified for. There will be a lot of competition and I just hope that I’ll make it to the interview stage. Remember…take nothing for granted. If neither is the place for me, then there will be another opportunity. I trust that to be true. The passing of time is the only enemy.

The road less traveled?