Toothful Tuesday…

Early morning dental appointment, then back home for writing. That was the plan, anyway. What could go wrong, right?!

What is it about the dentist that sends so many of us round the bend, so to speak?

I’ve birthed three children, endured numerous injuries, surgeries, and painful procedures, over the years. One would think that I’d become a powerful weapon of war, with my pain tolerance being put to the test, on so many occasions.

Well, apparently not!

I’ve had this appointment for weeks, and there isn’t any easy way around a cavity. It had to be filled. While I wasn’t looking forward to the procedure, I certainly wasn’t that stressed about it, at least that was what I originally thought. I guess I was wrong.

I get up early, enjoy a cup of my peppermint tea, and throw myself together, which only takes like five minutes. I actually headed off to the dentist early, before I could change my mind, lol. Arriving safely, I sat quietly waiting for my name to be called.

Once I’d been brought to the dentist chair, I settled in and waited. I’ll admit that my stress was rising, with all the sounds and smells that accompany a medical procedure. After nearly fifteen minutes of brooding in my chair, they arrived to give me the shot that would numb my face for the next six hours.

Needless to say, the needle part hurt. While it was painful, I didn’t think it was the end of the world, or anything. As tough as those few moments were, I endured. The dentist says, “Ok, that parts all over”, and they immediately put my chair in the upright position. That was a horrible idea, and I immediately knew I was going to pass out! I now remember saying I didn’t feel good, and could they put the chair back down, but that’s the last thing I can recall.

Suddenly, I was facing two strangers in mask that were shaking me, and asking if I could breath. I had no idea where I was for nearly two minutes, while a medical team had been hooking me up to blood pressure machines, and oxygen. They said I had some sort of seizure, or something.

Never fear, though, as I was able to recover enough to get the filling done on that tooth. I’m not going to go back and do that again, are you kidding me?!

My guess is that I was most likely holding my breath, out of stress. From there, I must have had a full on anxiety attack that shut everything down, briefly. My panic attacks normally don’t come on that fast, and without any warning. I didn’t even have time to employ any form of calming exercise. It didn’t help that they sat my chair upright, much faster than they probably should have done.

So, I’d like to say long story short, here, but that obviously wasn’t a short story, at all. And, while I’m back home with a fully filled tooth, I still don’t feel right. It’s noon and my mouth is still partially numb. I didn’t get much of any writing done, aside from telling my tragic tale of toothy woe. To any who stayed long enough to read through, til the end, I thank you.

I would be ever so grateful for virtual hugs, cookies, and comments like “that’s awful”, “you poor thing”, and some sprinklings of “how brave you were, Wiwohka”.

While you do that, I will go make some oatmeal. I think I can eat it without biting my own tongue, or worse, my lip.

Less is more…

Daily writing prompt
What are the biggest benefits of minimalist living?

There’s something interesting about that old adage. The three words, themselves, offer the full answer to the prompt, without needing much more information, don’t you think.

One can take a wordy explanation about how to enjoy much more of your life without amassing a garage full of material things… and simply say, less is more.

Don’t get me wrong, here. I, too, once had a garage full of toys, gadgets, and more. It wasn’t like those things just sat, collecting dust. We used them, therefore, we assumed they were necessary wants, not just want wants. It’s easy to justify having more than we actually need. And, it’s not always a bad thing. The reality sets in when the things we put our hopes in, fall away from our grasp.

There was a time when we had plenty, and then suddenly, it was gone… all of it!

How you survive and overcome great loss is what makes you who you are. It will define your character, for the better… or possibly not, depending on how much you valued all that was lost.

What I discovered during our time living in that old R.V., and into our homeless bit, was the art of finding solutions, the act of letting go, and the gift of gratitude!

We live quite modestly, now, compared to before. To some, it may seem impoverished, but quite probably it’s more comfortable than many others will ever experience. We don’t have much, but what we do have is cared for, and never taken for granted. And if we lose it, we replace it, or simply make do without it.

While I could easily come up with a list of things I could use, as anyone might do, I won’t. Why? Because living with minimal things has now become an actual way of life, at least in my mind. I can’t speak for my husband, of course.

The way I see it, having less means there’s more space in my head, my house, and my heart. There’s a sense of freedom in not being tethered to a large amount of materials that are all crying out to be used, repaired, and/or stored somewhere.

When we have to move, we move fast and light. When we exist in small and limited spaces, it’s comfortable and not overcrowded.

And, more importantly, my heart now seeks other treasures and beautiful things. You just might not see what I see. Our home may be empty of many material things, but it’s never truly empty. Instead, it’s full of love, laughter, light, and shared dreams. Dreams that are still yet to come true.

Plus, since there’s so much room in my kitchen, I’ve plenty of space for baking all these cookies…

Monday Messages…

I want to do things a little differently this morning. I know that we normally pick strange words in the English language, just to learn and understand more about properly reading and writing. But sometimes, life takes us in directions we didn’t see coming. I guess that’s where my mind is, just now.

Don’t get me wrong, I still want to become a famous writer, and all. That’s a dream that will never stop growing, a passion that will never diminish!

What I’m trying to say is that I feel like maybe it would be kind of fun to be a part of something bigger, and much more important.

Wiwohka’s grandbaby will now be with us three days a week, which means that everything is changing around the barnyard. Routines are all going to be different, which won’t allow us to write as much as we normally do. I want to help with the baby, more than I feel like writing, lately. Is that wrong?

I mean, she’s not MY baby, but still. She’s just adorable, and I smile so much when I see her that my cheeks hurt. I’m sure that Wiwohka will need my help, but I don’t really know that much about babies. I was thinking that perhaps I can still practice my reading and writing skills, while still being of use to Wiwohka, and little Maisie.

What if we use Monday Messages to look up different things about babies, and all that goes into caring for them? This will help me learn all about babies, and at the same time, I can practice my spelling and proper word usage. While I doubt this will be anything new for you, it will aid me. What good is an ant that doesn’t know anything, right?!

I do know that babies sleep a lot, eat a lot, and poop a lot. But, aside from that, I’m just certain that there is more to be learned about a baby. So, just to prove this to myself, I shall be embarking on an educational journey through the forests of baby lore. How did they do it way back then? What changes were for the better, and what ones were not so helpful? What things have remained the same, since the beginning?

You see, there are a number of things to study and write about, when it comes to babies. I thought it might be fun to write about Wiwohka’s and Maisie’s journey together, and document all the changes along the way. Plus, if Wiwohka’s daughter reads anything about it, maybe she won’t be so unhappy about going back to work. They visited the other day, and I could tell that she was sad about it. But, our place is just down the road from her work, so she’s not far away. I still feel bad for her, though.

Anyway, I hope you don’t mind me using Monday Messages to learn more about babies. It won’t last forever, as I’ve heard that babies tend to grow very fast. Before you know it, we’ll be back to our regular writings.

To ride like the wind…

Daily writing prompt
What’s a thing you were completely obsessed with as a kid?

Obsession was hardly the word for it! More like consumed, I think. For this little girl, anything to do with horses was where all the fun existed.

I was born and raised on a farm in Oregon, and was surrounded by all manner of farm animals from dawn til dusk. My mamma had me on horseback when I was still in diapers. Our family were avid hunters, so we were most often trail blazing up into some mountain range, or another, in search of good hunting grounds. Since it was easy to lose little ones in the middle of the woods, we were assigned to horseback for the majority of the trail passages. It was just what we did back then, as far as I remember.

When at school, my best friend and I would use our jump ropes and pretend to ride horses around the playground, during recess and lunchtime.

I watched every John Wayne Western, with rapt attention, as well as every other western movie or television show. The original Black Beauty movie was my go-to, along with any other show that featured horses.

My first horse was a paint pony that we named Candy, and I loved her like she was the only horse on the planet! We couldn’t afford a saddle for her, so I rode bareback all the time. It wasn’t a problem since she was as round as a bouncy ball. She was also not very tall at all, so when she bucked me off, it wasn’t far to fall.

Our farm boasted about 250 acres of cattle pasture, so my favorite Saturday activity was to ride the range, as they called it. The fence-line actually had several ranch hand shacks out along the back of our land, which I loved to visit. If I fell off my pony, I could just walk her up to the fence, and then climb back up that way.

My mother would pack us lunches, and my brother and I would take our horses and chase each other around the fields. The best part was pretending to shoot each other and falling off into the large piles of drying hay that lay randomly about the pasture. Those were the days.

My love of horses didn’t end there, though. Eventually, after years of riding whenever I got the chance, I landed a job as a ranch hand/babysitter for a friend of the family. I lived in a renovated tack room, out in the horse stables. I learned how to ride properly, both in Western and English style, as well as all the rest that went into training, breeding, and complete equine husbandry.

From the stables of a horse ranch, to the mountainous meadows of an all girls Christian Horse Camp, if horses were involved… I was all in!

As the years passed, and children arrived, my time was no longer my own. Though I wasn’t able to pursue more horsemanship type careers, I did raise my girls up in the same fashion that my mom did for my childhood. My girls were on horseback from diapers on, and we frequently enjoyed camping, fishing, and hiking with horses. We even spent three summers at a dude ranch in Idaho, riding horses all over the Sawtooth Mountain Range.

It’s been at least 15 years since I sat in the saddle, unless you want to count the numerous hours of computer games that require you to ride a mount. Age, and arthritis, finally caught up with this girl from the farm. My knees, my back, and my neck, have all paid the price of happiness.

While I might not be able to ride horses any more, it has never lessened my love and passion for the beautiful creatures.

Cookie?

What if I can’t choose?

Daily writing prompt
What’s a moment you wish you could freeze and live in forever?

Personally, I think this prompt is too difficult. Perhaps if there were only a single moment in time that were noteworthy in my life, but there have been many. Far too many, in fact, for me to successfully pick the right moment that should be frozen forever.

Why, the birth of my children has already created a conundrum, as I’ve three daughters. How on earth am I supposed to choose between them? Time would be frozen, remember, so if I chose one over the other, I’d lose a life’s worth of memories for the other two that I didn’t pick.

What about my wedding day? What about that moment? Again, if I choose my wedding day, it would again erase my chance at memories being made with all three of my girls.

While I’d love to freeze the moment I finished reading one of my favorite novels, with the combination of all the emotions being experienced at that final page… there are waaaay too many books that accomplished such a moment!

First big successes, or even first adventures… or what about our most amazing vacation moment? The problem with freezing any of the moments we may or may not pick, is that it’s permanent. No going back, and no going forward. How very limiting, I think.

For this reason, I am unable to pick only a single moment to dwell in forever. The problem with having anything wonderful is, eventually, we want more. The new becomes old, the exciting becomes rather mundane, and boring. It sounds harsh, but it’s the truth.

While I won’t pick a moment, I will pick today. While I don’t know what’s to come, I’ll walk the path, none the less. No matter the joy, or the pain, I will make my way to tomorrow, and leave today behind.

I, just as you, are travelers. We were never meant to stand still. If we did, time would simply wave as it passed us by.

Enjoy a cookie…

Tomorrows may be even better, or perhaps not. It’s a chance you’ll have to take, my friends.

(2025) What exactly do you mean by that?

Daily writing prompt
Have you ever been camping?

I’ve answered this prompt on several occasions, but last years response is still my favorite!

Enjoy…

I had to laugh when I saw this prompt, as it brought up a memory that had been lost to me… so thank you, WordPress!

I swear that I might have been born in the wild, because my earliest memories include riding bareback while still in diapers… ya, I have a mind like a steel trap!

Anyways, camping is something that came naturally to this girl, and so, I passed it on to my children. My daughters have been camping since before they were born, as I freely went camping during my pregnancies. When my girls began to grow, we began traveling with a group of about 4 or 5 other families during the summer months, camping and fishing throughout the great Northwest. From southern Oregon, across Idaho and into Montana, and even into British Columbia.

Needless to say, my family are avid campers, fishers, hikers and hunters! They weren’t always so experienced at this stuff, and it took a great deal of training and practice, especially in the bathroom department, if you know what I mean? I had three girls!

How does one raise a little girl to be a tough camper, and yet still be a little lady? Like I said, we traveled with a huge group of camping families, which meant cooking together, bathing in close proximity to others, and yes, using the restroom in groups, for security!

With little ones running around, we grown ups thought it was easiest to make an appropriate code word, to signal our restroom intentions. If one needed to use the restroom, we simply said, “I have to go camping”, and anyone who needed to go, simply agreed to come along.

Now, this went on for nearly an entire summer before one of my girls finally asked, “Mamma, how come the grown-ups keep saying they’re camping and then disappear into the woods?”

I explained that it was a polite way of saying that we needed to use the restroom, without saying it in front of others. She didn’t question me further, and seemed not to even understand what I’d said. About a week later, all the families gathered at our home to plan the next upcoming adventure.

There we all were, standing around the kitchen talking, when my daughter marches into the midst of the group and boldly announced, “Everyone, I need to go camping… that means I have to go poop!”

I nearly dropped the plate in my hands!

The entire room went silent for a moment, and then erupted into laughter!

All of the adults in the room knowingly laughed themselves silly, while my daughter marched off to the bathroom. The rest of the day was filled with children running around the house, loudly claiming they needed to camp and then laughing about it!

I’m still laughing…

Want a cookie?

(2024) I Chose To Live…

Daily writing prompt
Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.

First I chose to run…

Then I chose to stand…

From there I chose to walk on…

I chose God over suicide…

I chose to have my children…

I chose to heal…

I chose to live…

I’ve no regrets!

Here, have some cookies…

Since they’re virtual, you can take the risk, as there aren’t any calories to regret!

Thursday Thoughts…

Is it possible to overdose on too much exposure to adorable?

While I absolutely think it’s possible, I don’t think that the long lasting side effects are all that bad… feeling giddy and light headed, smiling til your cheeks hurt, and having a general desire to hug anyone within reach.

Can you believe Maisie’s over four months old now? Every time we see her, she just keeps getting cuter… and happier! I swear she is the happiest baby I’ve ever encountered. I can attest that her mother was NOT this happy all the time. In fact, my daughter was a very sick baby for the first several years of her young life.

But, as you can see from the above image, she got better. She had some hard knocks here and there, as a teenager, but my daughter is nothing, if not tenacious, when it comes to overcoming things.

I couldn’t be more proud of the woman she’s become, as well as being a fantastic mom!

So much will be changing for us, here in just about a month, as Maisie will be spending three days a week in our care. I’m thrilled, yet a little scared, also. It’s been over 30 years since I was caring for my baby girls. Things have changed dramatically since those days, when it comes to how babies are raised. Nearly all the baby stuff looks foreign to me, though I’m fairly certain I can still use a thermometer.

Thankfully, we have a small apartment, and there isn’t a lot of furniture and/or clutter, which I’m eternally grateful about. I’m never going to get any housework done, or anything else productive, for that matter. She is so cute, and I simply forget about everything else, the moment I pick her up.

How hard can it be, right?

We put a crib in our bedroom, and I’m decorating it to be as similar as possible to what she has at home. This way she’ll hopefully not be fearful of her surroundings, when she naps.

We still need to get a table and chairs for the kitchen area, so as to have a place for a little attachable high chair. She’s already trying foods, folks. Anytime a baby is born so big, I swear they start eating real food much earlier than normal. She loves bananas, squash, oatmeal, and her mamma is planning on offering her avocado next. We just make it with our little Ninja mixer. The plan is to make everything fresh, and with nothing added. I forgot how much work it takes being a mom. My daughter is going to be exhausted when she goes back to work.

Well, I’m just glad we can be helpful. My son-in-law’s mother will share childcare with us, so that our kids have a chance to be financially stable. Childcare these days is ridiculously overpriced. Honestly, I don’t know how anyone can actually afford to work, when they have to pay so much for babysitters, as well as all the other added costs of a growing family.

It’s about to become a whole different schedule for this Meemaw, but I don’t actually mind. Though I’ll not having as much free time available, once she arrives, it’s a fantastic trade-off. Maisie is far better than any video game, or Netflix series that I’ve already binge watched numerous times. I’ll have to adjust my writing schedule for when she’s napping, or playing with her Papa. If that doesn’t work then I’ll do it on the days she spends with her other Grandma. I might even switch to writing in the evenings, when it’s quiet.

In truth, I don’t think there’ll be anything productive going on when she arrives, which is as it should be…

(2024) Bad Kitty…

Daily writing prompt
Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?

The first thing that popped into my mind, when I read this prompt question, was the time I ate a piece of chocolate cake that the cat had peed on! I wish I were joking, but alas, there is nothing made up about that event.

What would I have done differently? I would have made the cat live outdoors much sooner than I did. The peeing on things had begun about a month prior. I’d been attempting to correct the cats behavior, rather than evicting her from the house… until that day!

Why on earth would this be the first thing I came up with, as I read the daily prompt?

As a general rule of thumb, I do not look on past decisions as something I would change. I stay away from the whole woulda shoulda coulda mindset, not only because it’s done and gone, but because our past makes us who we are now. Mess with one eensie weensie past decision and who knows what might be affected, here in the present.

So, for the most part, there isn’t a great list of things I would venture to safely change… aside for the cat and the cake… that I could un-remember!

Here, have a piece of cake… I’m sure it’ll be fine! This cutie wouldn’t dream of being naughty…

(2024) Nervous… Me?

Daily writing prompt
What makes you nervous?

There was a time when I could say that I was the poster child for Anxiety! My nervousness was my very own survival mechanism of choice!

Not much of my life went the way I’d wanted, leaving me traumatized and wounded for many, many years. All of the life interuptuses I’ve endured, some from my own making, have landed me with two nervous roommates that never leave… IBS and Fibromyalgia.

While you may be wondering why I’ve allowed them to stay, to me, they are more like helpless children, needing constant care and supervision. In good conscience, I could no sooner evict these two, than I could my own children. By loving and tending my roommates, or scars if you will, God allows me to manage my own nervous anxieties, with grace, compassion and understanding.

Assigning a specific culprit to hold responsibility for making us nervous, seems rather silly. As WordPress is not leading a support group or therapy session, by asking everyone what makes them nervous, the only thing this prompt will successfully do is make everyone nervous about answering what makes them nervous.

Did they even look up the definition of the word, before they thought to ask the question? I did!

According to Google, which the world seems to think knows everything, the definition of nervous is this:

easily agitated or alarmed; tending to be anxious; highly strung.

“a sensitive, nervous person”

It seems rather ludicrous to ask a nervous person what makes them nervous! It quickly became apparent to me that the idea of being nervous is a mannerism, or a trait that has long since been established. Once I read the definition, I began thinking about how hard it would be to just randomly come up with an easy answer, over a cup of coffee in the morning.

If it were that easy for all us nervous folk to discover what makes us nervous, there would be millions of spare dollars floating around, that no longer need to be paid to the professionals who spend years learning how to become a therapist!

Just sayin…

Here, have a cookie…

They were supposed to look like pins and needles, but as the AI art generator reflects, it was much easier said than done! The closest it could come to what I wanted, was cookies stabbed by a decorative paperclip… go figure!