Farewell (soon) to Colorful Colorado

I'm straining at the moment to find words to express all of the varying emotions taking place right now.  As mentioned in a previous post, the E.V.L. household will soon be in California (part of the household is en route as I type). It's strange to be in limbo - to know that my time is limited here, to know that I want to absorb as much as I can, do everything I can, and yet still want to be on my way so as to be a complete and reassembled family again. This is probably one of the few times in life when my uncontrollable desire to live in the future would be beneficial, and yet I cannot seem to call upon that skill when it is most needed.

*Image courtesy of Sam, as he travels west to new adventures.

We were having some minor repair work done on the furnace and one of the repair people commented on how great our house is and asked why we were selling it. Before I could answer, he continued to point out all of the things that he loved about our home. It was hard to hear because they are the very same things that I love about our home - the things that it has been easy to take for granted, even knowing that we did so much of the work ourselves to make it a place we would love. Why would we leave such a place? It's not at all difficult to question the why when in the midst of upheaval and not knowing what the outcome might be in the end, but I do believe that as much as we love our home here, there is something we will enjoy just as much over the horizon.

Personally, I've been struggling with how to say goodbye to a place that has been home for quite awhile. Not just our physical home space, but this area as a whole. When this potential moving idea started, I had put out into the universe that I really needed things to go smoothly with this move, and thus far, I have received what I had asked for in that regard (at least for the most part). Knowing that I would remain here in Colorado on my own to get things wrapped up is a bit intimidating, but we received several offers from others for assistance if/when it is needed. I am so grateful to have people in our lives who so willingly give of themselves. Let's face it, moving isn't fun and no one enjoys the process. It's nice to know that I will have some help, and if nothing else, someone to chat with during all of the packing and storing.

Throughout the craziness and seemingly never ending chores of this move, I have been thinking a lot about our time in Colorado. We have lived here for 11 years and I can't help but realize that we didn't always use our time to discover the things, places and people around us. In other words, I see that in some ways we took for granted the fact that we could always do an activity or visit a particular location another day. I don't ever want to take life or my surroundings for granted because we really don't know when something can change. When we first arrived in Colorado, we were discoverers, seekers, explorers, and sought out everything we could. Soon, we started settling into a bit of routine and found ourselves frequenting the same locations (that also happened to be closer to where we lived). I suppose this is no different than most would do when learning a new area, but it almost feels as though we got into a rut and stopped the exploration process. Of course, at some point it would likely slow on its own anyway, but there's almost always something new to find and enjoy, I think.

I was having a conversation one day with a friend and we were discussing the notion that there is "nothing to do or see here" in Colorado. Although there aren't necessarily as many things to do or places to explore as a larger metropolis, there's still quite a bit to do (especially when looking at the entire state and not just one small area), and I'm not entirely convinced that I took full advantage of the things, places, and activities at my disposal. I find myself preparing to leave with a bit of regret, wondering if I appreciated all of the beauty and greatness around me.

As we get ready (and soon) to start a new adventure in another part of the country, I keep reminding myself of the feelings I have right now, so that when I find myself getting used to or not appreciating what is around me in our new home, I will pause and ask myself if I'm doing what I should be doing. I want to be a different person. Well, perhaps I don't want to entirely change, but I want to let go of the things that sometimes hold me back or prevent me from reaching out to new people or places. I don't want to become satisfied with where I am and what I'm doing. I want to find beauty in the little things (as I do now), but continue to explore beyond my comfort zone. There's a lot to be found out in the world, regardless of where we live, and I can think of no better opportunity to explore than by bicycle.

So, as we prepare to depart, during my final weeks here in this beautiful state I am enjoying those last rides around the area and trying my best to take new routes and find new beauty, even as we stroll through March - which can typically be very bipolar with its temperatures and weather patterns. There's no time like the present to start new habits and I might as well enjoy the small amount of discovery time left in this area. Although I'm not quite done with my time here, there's a piece of me that is anxious to get things underway while simultaneously wanting to make time slow as much as possible. I've realized though that all I can do is live each day to its fullest and face potential challenges as they present themselves. I'm excited for what is to come, but thankful for the opportunity to say goodbye in a more leisurely manner.

Déjà vu

There never seems to be a dull moment in our house, despite the fact that we (the humans) in the household tend to prefer to cultivate pretty mellow lives (I won't speak for the fur-kids, as they have their own agenda most of the time). Much as I want to think of myself as a generationally-displaced hippy, I know there are those Type-A traits hiding deep down that prevent the hippy side from ever completely taking over (I'm not really a Type A - nor a true hippy- but I definitely have my moments on both sides of the fence, if I'm being totally honest).

One of my favorite San Francisco sites (and sights!)
*Image found here

If you've been reading here for awhile, you may recall this post in which I announced that the E.V.L. household would be on the move to the west coast, thanks to a great occupational opportunity for Sam - which was quickly followed up by this post stating that the job offer had been rescinded and we would be staying put here in Colorado. I think we were both somewhat relieved and also sad that we weren't going to be making the move, but it turned out to be quite a fortuitous happening as Sam ended up in the hospital very shortly thereafter - and we would've had no medical insurance if we'd been in San Francisco as planned. I've said it before, and I'll say it again - everything happens for a reason. Even though Sam was disappointed not to have the opportunity, we figured we were supposed to stay put and continue on with life.

So, here we are, merrily living our lives (okay, maybe not as merrily in the depths of snow and winter since we're both "summer" people - but still - living as happily as possible). We continued on with our home renovation projects, thinking that we needed to finish up quite a few of them. One day about a month ago, Sam went into work as usual. When he returned from lunch, he was informed that there was going to be an "emergency meeting," during which he was told that the company (which, by the way, just hired him about 6 months prior) had just laid-off 10 individuals (and escorted them out of the building), that there would likely be more lay-offs to come, and the company hasn't turned a profit in nearly a decade. WhaaaaAAAt?! I was in shock hearing the news as Sam sat reliving the afternoon from work to me.

Not everyone's cup of tea, but this was one of our home projects that's kept us entertained: painted walls, redone cabinets, new butcher block countertops, a CL-find farm sink, new faucet, "brick" backsplash, new electrical/outlets, and (not pictured) recessed can lighting. A totally different place to hang out. I love that we do all of these things ourselves... though sometimes it makes for its own headaches along the way. On a side note, I'm pretty convinced I'd live well in a shack somewhere, as long as I had electricity and water... okay, and maybe a sewer system of some sort... and heat. Okay, maybe I am not as ready to live in an abandoned cabin as I want to believe.

"So, do you still have a job?" was the thought on the tip of my tongue, but before I could bring myself to actually ask it, Sam stated, "So, guess who called me today?" with a devious little look in his eye. At first, I stared blankly, and then, as if I had a psychic moment, I said, "NOOO?! No way!" The very company that had offered and rescinded the job opportunity last spring wanted to know if he had any interest in coming that direction. The interesting piece in all of this is that Sam hasn't been particularly happy about his new position (for a variety of reasons), but has tried to make the best of the situation. He had drafted an e-mail to the company who had made the offer last year, thinking that he would follow up with them and see how things were going, and just never sent it... and then they contacted him. A serendipitous coincidence? Perhaps.

Then, a waiting game began. The director who'd spoken with Sam said that he'd be meeting with the executives and would get back to Sam. Because things went so very quickly the last round, I expected he'd hear from them within a day or two, but that didn't happen. Sam was much calmer about it all than I was. "What's taking so long?" I kept asking. As much as I am a person who prefers open-ended options and leaving all paths open for opportunity, this is one instance in life that I'd prefer to have things closed, settled and know what's going to happen.

It was additionally painful for me because we weren't saying a word about any of this to anyone. After the last happenings with this organization, who wants to be the one to say that we're moving and then have to take it back... again? I am not a good secret keeper though, particularly when it involves potentially life-changing events. Every time I'd start to talk to someone who'd bring up some happening taking place over the next couple of months, it took everything in me to not say, "Yes, but I/we probably won't be here." I restrained myself though. It's not really my news to share until it's actually official anyway, so the days and weeks of waiting felt endless.

End...less (I really am an impatient toddler sometimes).

For the love of God. Someone say something so I can know one way or the other what is happening.

What felt like an eternity eventually turned into conversations via various forms of communication. There was much discussion back and forth, but ultimately, an actual offer was extended and accepted. Which means that, yet again, the E.V.L. household appears to be on a move to the northern part of our home state.

I'm actually excited. And sad. And - well, lots of emotions are running rampant.

*Image found here

During the last round of this, I had a lot of sick feelings about leaving our home in Colorado. We've been here for almost exactly 11 years now, and we've both done a lot of growing in many facets of life during our time here. I truly believed that the home we are in would be our forever home and we would change and expand as needed. We've had a multitude of experiences that would never have taken place (my return to college, for instance) had we remained where we were. We were married in Colorado. We adopted and lost beloved pets during our time in Colorado. We have also both come to realize that had we never left California, we would likely never have become the people we are today. Bicycles (other than a rare mountain bike ride for Sam) were not even in our consciousness, and I don't know that they ever would have been, particularly for me. Colorado and the people we've met here have done us a lot of good, and we don't take that for granted in the least.

The wonderful part about moving is that we are always able to return, even if just for visits. Part of Sam's family remains in the northern portion of the state, and we have friends in the area, so we know that our departure is not a forever goodbye by any means. We get the opportunity to be closer to aging parents with a move to California, and even if we don't always get along with each of them, it's nice to know that they're close by. As with the last round of this, we know that neither of us could ask to be in a more appropriate or seemingly perfect location for a techie and an artist - and hey, the cycling isn't so bad either.

We are both much calmer with this round, causing us both to believe that timing is everything and that when something really is meant to be, it's difficult to stop it from happening. We are both ready, willing participants in this new adventure, and while there is still a small bit of time before this all takes place, we are excited to see what is in store for us on this new journey. It's always a bit scary to try something new or different, but we know that we are ready to take on new challenges and have a fresh start. So, as we prepare to say farewell to Colorado, we go knowing that our hearts are open to what is ahead because life truly is what we make of it.

On Life and Puppies

We did something recently that I swore up and down I absolutely would not do. We got a puppy. We lost our Golden Retriever back in the summer months and, admittedly, I have had a really tough time dealing with the grieving process. Almost daily, I find myself shedding a few tears thinking about him - even today. I even have weekly nightmares about losing him. He was just an awesome dog, particularly for our family. He was a mellow boy, but could turn on the energy just when it was needed. If we didn't feel like walking him, he was perfectly content to snore quietly at our feet. He loved people and would happily greet anyone willing to pat him on the head, give him a treat, or tell him he was a good boy. He was also incredibly patient with other dogs. I can only recall two occasions in his life with us in which he even remotely had issue with another animal (and that was only after repeated warnings to leave him alone). The winter has been particularly difficult because I am reminded of how much he loved the snow. He would roll in it until he was sopping wet, but it made him happy and that's all that mattered.

*Image found here

A few months ago, I started talking about adopting another dog. I had promised that we would not have more than two dogs again in our home, but I had spotted an older Labrador at our local shelter who had been left tied to a pole with a note stating that someone needed to "take him or he would be put down." Fortunately, two kind ladies decided to take him to the shelter so that he could find his forever home (which, as I recently learned, he did find). When I met with him, he was definitely a sweet boy. I walked him for quite awhile and even had Sam come to visit with him. He agreed that he was a great dog, but we both thought we needed to have our resident alpha Lab meet him before we made a decision to adopt. Of course, that did not go well. Our Labrador is about as opposite as a dog could be from the Golden we lost. She believes she is the ruler of the roost, she has crazy amounts of energy, and she believes that it is her personal mission to destroy every stuffed toy on this planet as well as to fetch every ball thrown (whether she's exhausted or not). We love her just as much as the Golden, but she can definitely be a handful to deal with on a daily basis. Even at seven years old, she retains her puppy attitude and energy - something our vet swore she would lose by age four.

You can see why I really wouldn't want to deal with a puppy. Already having a seven year old "puppy" in the house is enough to deal with, and I know the headaches that come with a truly young dog. Because I work from home, I knew that I would be the one dealing with the madness throughout the day. Still, in a moment of weakness, I thought that perhaps it was time to add a family member. After all, we have a 7.5 year old Labrador, and a nearly 12 year old terrier... perhaps a little additional energy would do us some good. Or not.

I believe wholeheartedly in adopting from shelters because there are far too many animals given up and there simply aren't enough homes for all of them. However, we realized quickly that having a "new" adult dog come into the house wasn't likely to work with our girl. So, we started looking for adoptable puppies. Our shelter didn't have any available that seemed suitable for our home, so we started checking other possibilities within the state. One day, while perusing Craigslist, we found a family who had some "accidental" puppies that they needed to adopt out to other families. Sometimes adoptions come from the most interesting situations, but we thought it was worth a look.

We ended up with a week(ish) to wait for our little Golden Retriever puppy to make her way home to us. In the interim, I started having doubts... started questioning the decision to bring home a third dog. It had worked in the past, but I kept finding myself asking Sam, "Do you still want to adopt the puppy?" To which he continually responded, "Yes. Why? Are you changing your mind?" I was never really sure how to answer. I know we can handle a puppy, but I was worried about how our Lab was going to handle it. Our terrier... I knew he would adapt... but the Lab - Ohhh... the Lab... she's just, well, very much her own dog who likes things her way.

Chablis and Gandolf check out the "fresh meat."

The day we brought the puppy (Bernadette) home, the two resident dogs took to sniffing her as though she were a slab of meat laced with chew treats. You can almost see the look of disgust on Chablis' (the Lab's) face above. Who is this intruder? Why is she here? She'd better be leaving soon! We've had visiting dogs in the past and it's generally fine, but it was almost as though Chablis knew this one wasn't going to leave in a few days.

Bernadette's wound healing - the knot was actually quite large at one point.
As a side note, I swear I have a better collar for her (You know, so she doesn't look like a sad orphan dog, but it doesn't quite fit her yet).

Since the puppy wasn't going to leave on her own, Chablis decided to attempt to make her go away. About a week and a half into her stay with us, Chablis was no longer tolerating this ridiculous puppy and while our backs were turned, in an instant she attacked the puppy, leaving a huge bite mark and swollen welt on the bridge of her nose. I have no doubt the puppy was trying to play and Chablis wasn't having it. We took great care to be sure the wound would heal properly and not leave Bernadette scarred for life.

An increasingly rare nap - it was a good break.

Unfortunately, Chablis' attempts to keep the puppy away did no good and by the next morning, she was once again jumping around and wanting to play. We did our best to keep them separated, but there's only so much separating that can be done when a puppy wants to play. We gave the puppy time outs in her kennel so she could rest and give the other dogs a break, and continued to give time to each of the dogs, but about a week after the first incident, when our backs were turned yet again, Chablis went on the offensive. This time, the puppy let out a long, repeated, screeching sound. As I went to her, I realized she was bleeding profusely. I picked her up and wrapped her in a towel, attempting to figure out where all the blood was coming from. One of her eyes seemed to be swelling and shutting and I couldn't tell where any punctures were on her body.

We had our first animal-related emergency room visit that evening. I was shaking, stressed, and unsure of what to do. Frankly, I wasn't sure if the wound was life-ending or not because I couldn't tell where Chablis had taken out her hostility. The puppy was spitting blood and not breathing well. It just didn't look good. After talking with the veterinarian, she assured us that we weren't doing anything wrong, but just needed to figure out a way to help them co-exist. She also said that Bernadette would be fine and that there was no permanent damage. Even her eye was fine - simply swollen from the trauma to her nose (again).

Sassing the Rat Terrier

This poor puppy! I didn't want her to grow up thinking that all dogs attack, are mean, or constantly growl. I didn't want her to think that she could never play or have fun. She's a puppy... and so small. It's my job to protect and train her - and I had failed - miserably - at my job. Maybe it was time to give Bernadette up and find her a suitable home. I just wasn't sure that Chablis would ever accept her as part of the pack, and after reading through the material given to us by the veterinarian, I was even less sure that this was going to work.

After a nearly sleepless night and lots of talking about what to do, we decided to see if someone could help. I went to the Humane Society and they suggested a puppy training course for Bernadette. In the interim (the classes still haven't started, but will soon), they reminded me to back up the older, resident dogs when they (politely and nicely) ask Bernadette to leave them alone. I was also encouraged to spend at least 15 minutes alone with each of the dogs so that no one feels left out or as though they are being replaced.

A good sign?

I don't want to be overly-optimistic, but things have been okay for the last week or so. We are doing our best to keep the puppy away from the Labrador, particularly if she's feeling super playful. We have our training classes scheduled to begin in about two weeks. We are walking the dogs individually, allowing for correction time with the pup, but also giving an opportunity to be with the older dogs on their own and appreciate them for their own special qualities.

Our Lab isn't a mean girl (crazy as she may be at times). In fact, she's really quite sweet and loyal, particularly to me. Even as I type this, she's right here with me, waiting for our next adventure. She loves people and is acutely aware of my emotions, so I am learning that I have to relax a little bit and not let the stress of a puppy take over every aspect of life. She may not love having to share my time with the other dogs, but she's slowly learning to accept this reality (I think - I hope).

As for the puppy, she's healing up nicely. Unfortunately, she's had quite a traumatic start with us. But, as with anything in life, I can't go back and change what has already taken place; however, I can work on making the future better for all of us. Part of me realizes that perhaps I should've listened to that little voice, that bit of intuition in regard to adopting another dog, but I believe we can make it work with the right assistance and training. We have enough love for each of the dogs - now we just have to work to keep them all safe, healthy and happy.

Trapped

It's been an interesting week or so here in our household. We've had family visiting from out of town, we have both fallen ill to this nasty local flu that seems to be spreading like wildfire, and I'm in the middle of a project that involves a slew of people coming by the house at random times of the day. Needless to say, I've found myself pretty well locked to the house, and it hasn't been the greatest. I always think that I'm a homebody and that just staying here throughout the day wouldn't be so horrible, but it turns out, I leave quite a bit more often than I imagined. For example, I often run to the post office to drop off packages or mail, I run to the art supply store to grab a color I'm missing in my paint tubes, or perhaps even a quick trip to a home improvement store to pick up some item for a household project. Most of the time, I get to perform these chores by bike, and I love it.

My bike time is "clearing my head" time and I have found myself a bit crankier than normal about everyday occurrences in life. I often wonder during these times if my bad behavior is justified or if I'm just overly sensitive to things because I don't have as much time to be outside. With winter closing in on us, I know my bike time is going to decrease yet again. While I don't mind riding in the cold, I've yet to get over my fear of ice on the roads while riding, so I'm certain that as soon as the snow hits, I'll be back to experiencing theses sorts of feelings.

Image found here

All of this has caused me to consider the days not so long ago when I would perhaps avoid riding my bike when possible. It's not that I didn't want to ride my bike, but there were days when I know I would make the excuse to drive simply because I didn't feel like taking the bike out. While I think it's perfectly acceptable to take the car when needed, my preference is always to bike when possible because I get to experience things such as the changing seasons, the daylight coming and going, and even the cranky drivers are less irritating (and often less irritable in the winter months - though not always) when on a bicycle. I find myself thinking that perhaps these flimsy excuses I've used only added to my weight gain over the last several years.

I hope that I am making changes in all areas of my life with this journey, and while they may not always be positive, I hope that I never feel trapped in my life. I know people who have made considerable life changes during or after losing a good chunk of weight, and I hope that I can keep my sensibilities and know the difference between positive and negative energy in my life.