Take me out to the ballgame!

About a month ago, my daughter’s school was selling tickets to a Rockies baseball game. I know as well as anyone that April weather is difficult to predict, but I love going to baseball games. My father used to take me to Giants games back in the days of Willie Mays, and I was so fond of these outings that I sported a Giants baseball cap as a kid and had a poster of Mays on my bedroom wall. Something about the slow pace of a baseball game and the traditions that go so far back is attractive to me and it is something I want to share with my daughter. Colorado has a beautiful stadium – Coors Field – that my father has gone to with me when he used to visit. I bought tickets to last Saturday’s game for my daughter and myself and hoped for the best.
Last week the weather turned foul, and Friday night the winds were so wild that I really wasn’t surprised when the rain turned to snow. I despaired, though, at the chances of even going to the stadium on Saturday. My friend Frank alerted me to the possibility of being able to attend an early game on Saturday when it turned out that they’d play a double header on Saturday to make up for the rainout on Friday. Saturday started out foggy and grey and it wasn’t until after noon that I was sure that we’d be able to go.

Miraculously, the sun came out and the day grew warm. M and I walked from our parking spot downtown toward the stadium and tapped into the excitement of the crowd as we got closer. We had put on our matching purple turtlenecks and jeans, not knowing how cold it would turn out to be. M’s eyes were big and she took in all the concessions and crowd and the big expanse of green field as we walked along the perimeter of the stadium to find our seats. We stopped to listen to the children’s choir sing the National Anthem, and quietly took in the rest of the crowd being respectful. I am proud of Colorado in times like this; folks here are staunchly independent, but also show respect for the time-honored traditions like respect for the ceremony of the flag.

Our seats – firmly in the “cheap stands” – were in the sunniest spot in the stadium, and due to all the confusion of the weather and the rescheduling, we had the row almost to ourselves. We got some cotton candy for M and some beer for me, and we settled in for our first baseball game. We clapped and cheered and followed the prompts to participate. M was happy and excited, especially when a second grader from her school and his family took their seats next to us and he recognized her. They chattered happily throughout the game.

I was able to relax and enjoy myself in a way that I haven't really had the opportunity to do in a while.  It all seemed to come together for me that afternoon, like the new job that starts on Monday, and the other signs that we're back, we're here, and all is well.  The sun was shining, (although we woke up to snow this morning) and we were sitting in the baseball stadium together, and we were happy. 

By the time the game was finished, the Rockies had lost, we had consumed hotdogs and soda and beer and cotton candy, and the sun had slowly moved across the sky to the point where our seats were no longer in the sunshine. We could have stayed for the second game, but we decided that we’d had a good time and we were ready to leave, full and content.

If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes

We have a saying in Colorado: If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes.  While it doesn't change THAT rapidly, it does change pretty fast.  Which is actually something I really like about this area; there are definite seasons, there is drama and beauty in the natural environment, and it isn't boring. 
I had been watching the forecast, so I knew this storm was coming, and so yesterday - Saturday - M and I geared up and went for a walk in the greenbelt.  It was getting colder and at only about 1 pm it was already getting dark with the cloudcover.  While we were out it started to snow, but I got these pictures first:

One of several bridges that cross the creek that names our greenbelt.  Some of the prairie dogs were scurrying about, no doubt stocking their pantries before getting snowed in.

This morning, it looks like this outside:

By later in the week, it is supposed to be back in the mid 50s, clear and sunny again.  I love Colorado!

Yeah, baby!

We woke up to a chilly, cloudy day. Cool air was coming in through the windows, and by mid morning a light rain was falling. Ahhhhh!

M wanted a fire, and it was just the morning for it. I read for a while and basked in the soft comfy chair, with the fire warming my toes, and loving a lazy Saturday. Of course, we had to head out to Costco and the supermarket. It is kind of funny to explain to M why we buy frozen chicken breasts at Costco but not apples. I remind her that we don’t have ten people in our family, and that we would never be able to eat the apples before they would spoil. (A lesson that she was able to grasp much faster than her father!)

We made my favorite oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies. In the past week or so, I’ve been trying recipes that I’ve been wanting to try. I made a yummy bruschetta that I know I will make again, and tomorrow morning I plan to make a frittata. I bought a convection oven last year that I am only now getting to use, and I love how fast it cooks a chicken breast.

The whole time I was in California, I didn’t cook except for a few isolated times. My mother has her very large kitchen arranged in such a way that neither I nor my father could figure out, and she wasn’t about to let anyone interfere. I had only two tiny shelves to store my food, and one shelf in the refrigerator. Anything else I had to keep in my bedroom (like my cans of V8) or out in their garage in my refrigerator, which they also kept stuff in. It quickly became clear that it was not a fight I could win. I stopped trying to manage an unmanageable situation and lived on convenience food, prepared food, and restaurant food. That I gained a few pounds is not just attributable to my busy schedule!

I am getting a cheap thrill out of my rice cooker, my steamer, my countertop produce and my pantry. My favorite cookbooks – Sunset and America’s Test Kitchen – are seeing the light of day, and I am figuring out how to cook on an electric stove. (I’ve always had a gas range)

I love that M wants to help me with everything, and that she is learning the basics of how to prepare and cook food. We talk about how to make things and she helps me shop. By the time I was in junior high I could make dinner for six by myself. At times cooking has been nothing but drudgery, but when the rest of my life is making sense, I find that my love of good food returns and cooking is the pleasure it is supposed to be.

And damn, it smells good in here right now!

Fingers Crossed!

Well, I’ve put a deposit down to lease a townhouse in Colorado! I am so excited, I can barely contain myself. I hope my application is approved; it should be, but there are no guarantees. I’ve got my fingers crossed.

This was a little exercise in confronting something I recently read in Oprah magazine that was talking about mindset:
“The primary fact of life for just-in-case processes is: "Everything good is scarce!" By contrast, just-in-time systems rely on the assumption "Everything good is readily available."”

I was seriously not wanting to incur any additional costs with this move, and yet I really want to live in a nice place. Part of my self that said “Be Careful! Save Money!” was at war with the part that said “Go after what you really want! You deserve it!” This kind of internal argument is not new for me, but I haven’t tackled anything big in a while. This is where I’m going to be living. This is big.

What surprised me while I was observing this inner conflict is that I saw how large a part of the dilemma was based on fear:
Fear that the place I want won’t be available when I need it (the scarcity issue).
Fear that I won’t be able to afford it (my money will run out before I get back into a good job).
Fear that I might be repeating old mistakes (being impulsive rather than smart).

And in a dark little corner of my mind, the shadowy thought that I might be reaching too far – too far beyond my “place.” This townhouse has amenities I haven’t had before. Do I deserve to live like that?

Just knowing that this dark little piece of the past is still lurking in my subconscious was enough to push me toward a decision. Out of all of the places that I’ve looked at – and I think I started looking last October – this one is the one that I really want. So I decided to pursue that which I really want, instead of ‘settling before I’ve even started.”

I’m holding my breath.

Colorado on my mind

I didn’t know any of them personally, and I am only connected by the randomness of geographical coincidence.

Ten years ago today 9/11 hadn’t happened yet. My daughter hadn’t yet been conceived. I lived in Jefferson County, Colorado, in a little brick house with my two black labs. I had just gone back to school to study Computer Science and was working a patchwork of part-time jobs. My life was hectic and absorbing and concentrated on overcoming some challenges that I’d been struggling with for many years. That was the year that I got my first real IT job, and though that year I only cleared about 18k, it led to finally getting a chance to work in a more professional capacity and away from the endless “service” sector kind of jobs that I had held until then.

I felt good about what I was doing, I was working toward something. That day I was glued to the TV and the phone. My friends and I were just stunned. I remember being irritated, though, by the folks who kept saying that it shouldn’t have happened there. I knew better. I knew that tragedy strikes when you aren’t looking, when you aren’t prepared, when you haven’t got a clue how to cope with it. I was a little girl when the rug was first pulled out from under me and everything changed.

It reminds me that I am actively working to get back there so that my daughter will begin her school years in that same county. I am glad that they’ve worked on their response policies and procedures. I’m glad there is more awareness. It won’t mean that nothing bad will ever happen, though.

I still can’t believe my daughter is really here, that she is so exactly what I always wanted, and that we have such a great bond. I don’t know what I’d do if something took her away from me, but I can imagine.

Ten years ago today I reaffirmed my belief that life is short. When 9/11 happened two and a half years later, I remember thinking again, “keep going.” Life is short.

I am going to voluntarily quit my job in the middle of a huge recession in ten weeks. I am going to stick to my plan and live this adventure. You just never know when things will change, and all you can do is experience as much joy and challenge and new stuff as you can while you can; I am sure that life has to be lived.

New Year and Following the Dream

This year is going to be full. Full of change, full of movement, full of milestones. I have waited for it, yearned for it, and planned for it, and yet there is a lot of anxiety, too. I push away the fear with resolve. It creeps back. *sigh*

Right now, in this first Monday of the new year, I am pushing back at the boredom of my job, the grey, damp weather, and my desire to procrastinate an assignment for school. Watching the clock, feeling fat and achy, thinking about moving and money and M. Missing Colorado.

This was my house in Colorado. Sometimes my throat closes up and I can't breathe, I miss it so.
I've made so many mistakes in my life that have taken enormous work to make right... this house was my safe haven.

All that is gone, but I have my daughter. As they said in "Dances with Wolves," it was a "good trade," but it still aches in my heart.