Rosy & Taxi: Horses, Headaches & Unrequited Love

These two beautiful horses are named Rosy and Taxi. Taxi was the handsome, aloof horse I rode when I took English riding lessons again a few years ago.

I rode for about 3 years and was recently thinking that I'd like to try it again (once settled). Our new home is much closer to the acreages and stables of south Calgary - a much shorter drive to see open pasture and nature and an abundance of spectacular horses. I was thinking about riding tonight because (a) I'd like to start lessons again, (b) I was told I was a *natural* (but that it was too bad I hadn't started when I was about 8) and (c) that I stopped riding because of headaches. Life became too un-manageable at the time, with just moving back to Calgary in 2001 and working out of town a lot. I had to give up something, and it was the horses.

David mentioned that he picked up his guitar tonight, a love of his. He's an excellent musician. He can play a song by ear, while listening to it on the radio (even a brand new song!). Impressive! He also plays bagpipes. My hero! It will be nice for us both to be settled in and not be transient and wanting, and just get back to our roots, our loves. Maybe I will pick up my camera again. Once we get the house furnished and painted....hmmm....it may be a while as we are not impulsive shoppers. Oh well, there is always the future to fill.

Headaches have been bad of late. I need sleep and a quiet life. Will see my neurologist soon, and will get back to posting more about headaches soon. No new discoveries, but I did discover it is nice to not blog about headaches every day, to just get on with life a little. Still, I find myself missing the connection to this community, a place where I felt *home* with all the other lost souls, wandering through life looking normal but living in a quiet inner hell. I hope that some day we will overcome.

Happy Birthday Mom!

H A P P Y B i R T H D a Y M O M !!!

A few words about my Mom ~ Marilyn ~ born October 20th a few moons ago....

We have been best friends since the beginning of time. I can't recall ever having a fight with her. We are solid as a rock. She's the *one* person who knows me perfectly, knows every nuance of my character, knows all my flaws and shortcomings, knows what I mean when I don't have the words. She is also the one who sees all the best in me, who celebrates me most, who has always trusted and told me - from a very early age - that I am capable of anything. I cannot ever repay all she has given me.

All the mother's day cards in the world are not enough to say what needs saying about my Mom.

As a child, I found my Mom to be *perfect* as kids do - she was a source of absolute love and support! She adored me, loved me unconditionally, helped me through my troubles (lots of crying about school), took me with her everywhere, talked to me, listened to me like an adult, gave me everything I needed and wanted (physically and spiritually). I don't recall her ever disciplining me - she just knew that I knew what I was doing.

As a little kid, I remember lying on the sofa watching tv with her, cuddled up (my favorite spot). I would make us folded-over sandwiches and bring them to her, sleep next to her in bed, read with her, help make (and eat) cookies with her, try on her clothes and jewelry, watch her get ready to go out, admire how pretty she looked, wrap presents with her for hours, decorate the house and tree for Christmas with her, hang out laundry with her, pack Avon orders with her, drive around in the car for hours delivering Avon orders with her (I met a lot of neat people and cats and dogs) while listening to music and singing out loud, visit family with her for endless hours of talking. As an only child, I spent all my time with her and around her. She was my comfort, my bosom buddy, my one true love. My life revolved around her.

As an adult, I still see my Mom as perfect. I know none of us is, but I just don't see any flaws in her. Seeing her for the woman she is, I am amazed that so much character and integrity can be wrapped up in one adorable, sweet woman. My Mom is smart, one of the brightest people I know. She's very intelligent and articulate and funny and interesting. She's a great person to have a conversation with. She's a great speller, grammarian, and writer. But more than that, she is wise. Wise about people. Wise about life. Humble, modest, quiet, witty, street-smart.
She has an amazing quality that no one I've ever met seems to have - she is unselfishly interested in other people. Old people all love her because she talks to them and listens to them and asks them questions about their families and health. She is the most interesting and interested women I know. Besides caring for my disabled father (who was a turkey for most of their marriage), she spends a great deal of time caring for her elderly mother. She also devotes her life to her sisters and brother, all of whom she loves unconditionally. They talk on the phone and see one another often and are very close.

For almost 25 years, she has been running the show at a busy municipal office. She works for several men (all elected officials - go figure) who are uneducated, illiterate poopheads who think women should be happy earning less than men while doing 5 times more work. She quietly manages these jerks - I don't know how -

She is the town guru. She is loved and respected by everyone she knows who (a) have good taste and (b) know anything about anything. She is on committees galore, where people love her, simply put. She knows everyone. She won an Award of Merit for Leadership, given by the province to very few people every year, after many discerning folks rallied for her! She knows everything there is to know about municipal affairs, accounting, budgets, bylaws, building permits, taxation, payroll, urban planning and development, finding money that isn't there, water quality, photocopiers, event planning, banking, buying trucks, irate taxpayers, municipal acts, regulations, reigning in spending and stupidity by counsellors and mayors, old ladies arguing over fences. She knows a lot about stupid men who talk too much and say too little.

Most of all, she's a diplomat. A lady. The UN would be honored to have her. She isn't well-paid for all she does, but she's the type of person who won't use the postage meter in her office when she sends me a letter - she uses her own stamp. She doesn't take advantage. She is the most fair person I know. When she could make a scathing remark about someone who's an arrogant ass, the most she might say is "he thinks highly of himself" or something otherwise fair and patient. She is kind. She goes out of her way. She sees the best in people, even my Dad and one of her sisters who rages too much. She is good. She is loving. Everyone goes to her when they want something done. She will drop everything when I phone, despite being exhausted and having had 10 phone calls that night, sometimes about work (but they have begun to learn - don't call her at home!).

She knows more than 99% of the people she spends her days around, but she doesn't have a speck of ego. She is respected, known to be knowledgable. She doesn't judge people. She is friends with fancy, educated, rich people and people who don't have jobs (nor teeth). They are all equal in her eyes. She has high regard for education and loves clever, articulate people. She makes me laugh. She loves music. She loves the CBC (I get this from her) and Law & Order-type crime shows (I got this too) and Canadian Idol.

She likes nice clothes and dressing well and seems to iron a lot, but like I, she knows that you can't judge a woman by her clothes and her material wealth - it's what's inside that matters. She's a great cook, especially turkeys and birthday cakes with seven-minute frosting. She's the only woman I know without a drop of envy in her - and I really mean that. She gives gifts to people - everyone, the paper gal, the guy who mows her lawn. She is thoughtful and loves cards - I got my love for Hallmark moments from her. She likes her tea, loves movies, is a night owl. She loves to sleep in (like me). She keeps a clean house and there is always milk in the fridge (and at least half a tank of gas in the car). She doesn't drive on slippery roads. She is sensible. She is the type of person who sends $10 to all those charities that send you calendars and key tags and mailing labels at Christmas. She loves to donate to the World Wildlife Federation. And she buys whatever people are selling, especially if they look like they need the money. I got this affliction as well. : )

Her cat, Pookey - how could I forget - is her pride and joy. Besides raising me, she raised several cats and dogs over the years. And she is the type of good mother who scoops the poop in the litter box every day. And leaves the radio on for the cat. She strives to exercise enough, and she walks and walks, to keep her cholesterol down, and eats healthily (which is hard in a small town where all the restaurants feature fish & chips and they look at you funny when you order a salad). She had a heart attack at 49, from faulty genes and a share of stress, but she recovered and repaired and toiled onwards. She puts one foot in front of the other and marches on. I am so thankful that she didn't strand me on this planet without her. She is sensitive and delicate, but she is also the bravest, strongest woman I know.

She gives and gives. She takes little in return.

I can't think of the right words to sum her up, really, but these are all examples of her glory. I can't articulate her very well, for how do you sum up a work of art? But I can say that if anyone says I am like my mother, it is the greatest compliment I can ever receive. I don't even mind having her o-so-baby-fine hair. But in our next life, if nothing else, we both hope to have thick hair.

My Mom is loved more than she knows. There are probably a lot of great Moms in the world, but as a woman and a mother to me, she is rare and perfect beyond belief. I am honored to be her daughter.

Swamped!

David and I are swamped in house details. This week was spent dealing with home insurance, since that will be required by our lawyer soon.

There are issues related to wiring in the house. The house has some aluminum wiring (as well as copper), which is a fire hazard in the minds of most insurance co's. My research has uncovered that electrical inspectors and Canadian standards say that aluminum is perfectly sound (and still legal) as wiring, but the installation needs to be done correctly. Many insurers require pre-qualifying inspection by an electrician. Sounds easy, but most electricians are unwilling to take the work, as they don't want the liability if there is a future claim, etc.

We have found two insurers willing to insure with their own inspectors coming for a look. Sounds good, but I am trying to nail down our future liability. Will they come and tell us we need to re-wire the whole house (several thousands, and requires gutting half the house!)? Can they drop our policy if we refuse? Is there interim updates that can be done?

So this week, I have talked to about 15 people at 7 insurance co's, plus 5 electricians, our realtor, the Insurance Bureau of Canada, several home inspectors, a couple of colleagues, and our lawyer.

Complex issue and a real headache, literally and figuratively. It will get resolved, eventually, but someone the novelty of the house-purchase is wearing off fast. I am getting sick of talking on the phone and listening to 40 voicemails a day.

Besides that, Biscuit (my cat) is booked into a kennel for the move (which I arranged half of LAST week). But he needs his shots updated....so that requires two appointments on two Saturdays in the next 6 weeks, while we also look after (a) Christmas shopping (b) paint colours (c) box collection and packing (d) transfer of utilities (another 3 days on the phone) (e) cancelling of accounts (e) visit to our lawyer (f) visit to the bank (new account), and what else an I forgetting?!

This is exciting, but clouded by all the wretched details. I am spent.

So that's my update. It isn't headache related, but is headache-inducing. Still, we are thrilled, and it will be so nice to finally get into all that beautiful space that we actually own!! We bought an antique oak chair last weekend, and I can't wait to shop for more cool stuff, slowly acquiring the right pieces, etc. It will be great.

Hope you are all well. I will probably not be blogging much before Christmas, but will try to drop a line here once in a while. I am currently overwhelmed. Did I mention I need to get new winter tires in the next month? It never ends. How do people manage with children???? Ok, don't answer that. Like me, you become fat and dishevelled and don't buy any new clothes for 6 months nor work-out, nor get proper sleep. You exist. But still, it is joyous to exist in this crazy world where we are so blessed to have so much. So I'm not complaining, just celebrating the chaos I guess.

Love to you all. Soon, Terri

Headache Rut

I have fallen into another headache rut, or ditch as the case may be. After an up-and-down summer, my headaches seemed to stabilize for a while and be manageable. In other words, they didn't dominate my life. Lately, the monster has reared its head again, and I am partly to blame.

Last week, I was in training all week. The catered lunches consisted of sandwiches and soda pop. For 3 days, I gave into boredom and drank a Diet Coke. Bad move. Diet Coke, when I already have a headache, make it much worse. I know this runs counter to the "caffeine is good for headaches" thing. But as Kerrie mentions in a recent caffeine-related post, you really need to be your own caffeine coach, as the effects differ for everyone.

For me, caffeine means trouble, in either Diet Coke or coffee form. Except for when I drink it when I don't have a headache. Then, it only makes me pee. Funny, but chocolate has no effect. Maybe it's the aspartame? But what explains the coffee? Too confusing for me.

Anyway, to get back to the story. So I had a couple of Diet Cokes to top up my headache, and a few bad nights of sleep (too little). Over the weekend, David and I seemed to stay up far too late watching tv (or lying half-asleep on the floor as we are wont to do). So far this week, I've had poor sleeps due to laying awake thinking about everything under the sun. I've also woken up around 4am, wide awake despite the Elavil, and had a hard time falling back asleep. These two things have lead to some bad headaches this week.

It's time for a re-boot. I stayed home from work this morning and slept but the 4 extra hours didn't help. And I had to come into the office for an important meeting this afternoon. My head feels like it's in a vice. I also have positional head pain, meaning that when I make a sudden movement, like standing, or changing position (especially when I leaned over to put on my boots) my head pain seems to swell and throb. Ow! This isn't typical, but I have felt it before during bad headaches.

Time to get more sleep, lay off the colas, and stop thinking so hard at bedtime. But I guess this is the price I pay for being a closet Diet Coke lover, a night owl and a night time thinker. But I do some of my best thinking after 9pm! I have a very active - hyperactive - mind and it is often mired in endless details and plans. This sounds like a fantastic, celebrated Type A attribute, as I am also hyper-observant, a keen worker, and a slave for details. I would make an excellent wedding planner! Lately, I am distracted with the house buying details, but I enjoy it, especially learning the intricate details of the process and the fun bits like thinking about paint colours and furniture and coming home to David every night. But I need to slow down and stop thinking so darned much. I can't control everything. And all this thinking really does make my head hurt.

Sometimes I think they're right about that "ignorance is bliss" thing. If I could think and do and feel and live a little less fast and hard, I might be a whole lot happier. Now....how do I change my fundamental character? The over-thinking is definitely a contributing factor, for me at least, in the headache game. I am a sensitive sponge for everything - information, moods, body language, facts - and I just process too much information. Sometimes I wonder if I am vaguely autistic or have ADD? I do think my personality has consequential effects (not causitive). There has been heated debate over whether A-types have more headaches. It hasn't been proven to be true. But my personality does mean that I work-work-work and think-think-think to the point of brain fatigue, and that causes me to not relax, not rest, not delegate, and not take a breather when I should.

Hopefully, this weekend will slow me down. David and I are getting out of Dodge and travelling to visit his Mom for Thanksgiving (this coming weekend here in Canada). So with three days of rest and conversation, naps, reading, meal prep, and lots of turkey and carbs to make me sleepy, I just may feel a whole lot better Tuesday morning. I can dream...

Happy Thanksgiving!