Walliebloggin' 2
The sequel
title pic
Thursday, June 9, 2016
A Merge
If I can figure out how to do it, I am merging Walliebloggin' and Walliebloggin' 2. Both will be under Walliebloggin' from now on...I hope.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
Everyone needs a groove and a dog food bowl.
We are taking a break from
settling in at the new homestead, to housesit back in our rocky mountain
playground. We’ve been going pretty much
non-stop for a couple of months preparing to move, moving, renovating, unpacking,
and finally (hope this isn’t too premature) putting the finishing touches on
our new (to us) home. Originally, skiing
was in the picture, but some knee pain is keeping me off the slopes this trip
until a plan of action for it becomes apparent, so we are in a slow it down/take it as it comes mode
and we will just enjoy being here instead of go-go-go (but its only day
two-ha!).
We will be entrusted with a
couples home that is two doors down from our first housesit in August. We met them on that trip and their two precious
Westies we will be caring for. Their
home is also on the golf course, but buried under a few feet of snow at the
moment. A sad, but pretty sight
nonetheless.
Until our housesit begins in
a few days, we are hanging out at a friend’s place getting acclimated to the
altitude and the scenery that never lets you down. So while we are here, getting our mountain
fix, I will try to share some scenes and thoughts as the days trickle by.
Nature's way of keeping these bicycles safe from being stolen til spring. |
What better way than to
start with breakfast? Those of you that
know me, really know me, know that cereal was an addiction for me. During a certain dark period of my early
adulthood, I could be caught eating large quantities out of a dog food bowl,
lovingly given to me, yet enabled my problem with multiple variations of cereal
that came pre-sugared and naked.
Some 30 plus years later,
without any rehab, I’ve wrestled my intake of Sugar Frosted Flakes, Sugar Pops,
and way back in the day…Captain Crunch (among others)… to a manageable, semi-normal
serving size of Kashi’s Heart to Heart
Oat Flakes & blueberry clusters.
That is most days. But a few
years ago (and I have shared this before) Snoqualmie
Falls Lodge Old Fashioned Pancake and Waffle Mix found me. A taste bud marriage made in culinary heaven,
that will last as long as humanly possible.
So back to, “What better way
than to start with breakfast?” Whether
at home, traveling on the road, or on a housesit, this blessed mix accompanies
me if at all possible. In previous blogs
I’ve eluded to its presence, but until now have not shared a more comprehensive
take of this gift from above. You see,
when I have one of these gems for breakfast (blueberry pancake or waffle), it
just didn’t start when I woke up and felt that empty feeling from the night
before, having topped off dinner with a slice of apple streusel pie-heated
(half price, compliments of the local grocery store), paired with a traditional
scoop or three of vanilla ice cream…no, it usually begins a day, sometimes two
days before. It is my break from Kashi
and shakes my intestines up a bit, variety and all that. So yesterday, we got our legs under us at
altitude and got out and got a little fresh air (shopping!). I got the feeling that today would be a good
Snoqualmie day. Didn’t say anything to
Beth, but in my mind I knew it was coming.
As the lights went out on
the way to slumber land, I mentioned to Beth I felt like a blueberry pancake in
the morning, if she was interested. She
is usually good for a smallish one, but without syrup (that’s a whole other chapter).
Morning arrives as it
usually does (thank goodness and I think that everyday!) and as I check my
extremities to begin loosening them up in preparation for getting vertical,
Snoqualmie becomes my focus. I say
nothing to Beth, because I don’t’ want my addiction to sound worse than it
is. The process begins.
I won’t go so far as to
metaphor this whole affair as if it were a dance, that’s a little creepy. But more of a groove I slip into. I will spare you the details, but hit some important
highlights. This is an add only water
mix…no eggs, oil, whatever, so it is right up there with my ability level in
the kitchen. My measurement tool is not
a measuring cup or measuring spoons…it’s a fork. I know that 5 fork-fulls, makes the perfect
size pancake or waffle (for me). It’s
not giant or too small, it’s just right.
While the mix awaits the griddle to warm up, the blueberries get washed
and de-stemmed (if there are any to be found).
Then they are scooped up and with a little love-squeeze, dropped into
the batter. That little finger hug shows
my appreciation for their wonderful addition to the trifecta of taste that
completes one pancake…the mix, the syrup, and the blueberries.
Finger hugs all around. Thanks for being so tasty! |
This wonderful slurry awaits its turn on the griddle. |
The batter that is now
overloaded with blueberries is ladled onto the griddle, and the rest is pretty
much salivary history. A couple of eggs
and maybe either milk or orange juice compliments the setting. But the pièce de résistance is the Log
Cabin (No High Fructose Corn Syrup) Original
Syrup – A family tradition since 1887!
Log Cabin is some baggage I evidently have carried around since my childhood;
it’s just not the same without it. What
I marvel at every time is how little time it takes to eat it, compared with
preparing it. But I enjoy the beginning,
the middle, and the end, each just as much…well maybe the end more! So you see, it is not just making a pancake,
its not “a dance”, it’s a groove. And I
look forward to getting my groove on in another 4 or 5 days.
A picture never tasted so good! |
My Zen from the Road: I miss my old
dog food bowl I ate cereal from…or maybe it’s the fact I could eat copious
amounts of cereal and my body kept its awesomeness…at least until I hit
30! Either one, it just goes to show you
we can’t and don’t stay the same (physically and other-wise). We are not made that way. Whether it is incorporating a morning routine
to get your joints moving before jumping out of bed to greet the day, or maybe just
rolling out of bed, trying not to go to the floor in the process, and accepting
another day is upon you…we adapt, we change, and we are the better for it or at
least we should try to be. We are a work
in progress. And when we are done, well…I
guess we will be able to eat out of dog food bowls again.
On our way out, we stopped for gas in Goodland and had a moment with Van Gogh's "Sunflowers," Kansas style. |
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Measuring Change
The more things change, the
more they stay the same… I get it, but I
don’t. The more things change, the more
things change. Now that makes sense.
As a science teacher, my
students and I discussed that for living things to survive, they must adapt to
their surroundings or they end up struggling and may not survive. Well, this last year I found myself
practicing what I preached. The change I
am talking about can be measured in many ways.
For example, the distance of 7.6 miles, measures the distance from the home I’ve known for
a looong time, to mine and Beth's new (circa 1985) townhome. This change began in
earnest about a month ago and involves Beth and me packing up and moving to OUR
new place around Christmas time. This is
something I haven’t done for over 25 years, but Beth has now done it twice in 2
years! I recommend it to NO ONE…moving
that is (due to what seems like endless cleaning, packing, throwing away, taking what you just threw in the trash back out and rethinking it, then throwing it back in the trash (or not)).
Over the last six
months, we looked around to see what was available in maintenance free
housing. There was always something that
ruled out a particular home, townhome, or condo. Until THIS ONE became available. A townhome with storage (or at least more than others we had seen to that
point). Updated, good location,
apparently move-in ready, and we BOTH LIKED IT.
Strike while the iron is hot! We
offered. They countered. We accepted. And before we knew it, we owned two
properties, had two sets of utility bills, two mailboxes, and two places that needed work. For purposes of clarity, we
will call the home in Blue Springs, my home city since I was a freshman in high school, House
#1. The new place located in Lee’s
Summit will be House #2. And for a
two-week period in the middle of this evolution over Thanksgiving, we house-sat for friends in House
#3.
While waiting for the closing
on house #2, the wheels started turning on “what-ifs.” What if we changed the flooring? What if we took out a small wall (there are
no small walls!)? What if we covered up
the brick on the fireplace? And the
snowball express left the station. Beth
has great vision on what the possibilities are in a space and soon, as if
animated through HGTV, a wall disappeared, floor tile was coming out (thanks Jeff), kitchen
cabinets were being painted, brick is being dry walled over (thanks Shannon),
and of course new wall colors became endless.
Not to mention a different kind of trim and baseboard touch, door
handles, and window treatments. By the
time we signed our 30-year commitment to our lender, we were ready to hit the
ground running. Over the last couple of
months, a transformation has taken place from our “move-in ready” townhouse to
OUR new renovated townHOME and the running part has slowed to a walk with a limp.
I don’t want to leave you
with the impression that House #2 is now complete. Let’s just say that all of the stuff we
didn’t donate, throw away, or leave for the buyers of House #1, has found space
under the roof of House #2. By the time
the last paintbrush has been washed out and final dust pile swept up…let’s just
say that winter’s grip will be a fading memory.
What makes change easier, is
knowing that what you are leaving behind will be ok. On a grand scale, that must have been one
thing on Miki’s mind as she expressed her concern not for herself, but for me,
her family, and her friends, as she moved on and left us behind. Hopefully she found that peace in knowing we
would be fine. To a much less degree, I
felt this for my home of 25 years. A 26-year-old
house (when it was purchased) that was transformed over the following 25 years
into a home that became special to me.
With the changes Beth and I
have experienced in our lives recently, letting the house go was overdue, so
that we could begin with a blank slate with each other and create a home of our own together.
After placing it on the
market last fall and showing it to a number of prospects, the accolades began
to flow and were nice to hear and the enthusiasm of these potential buyers
easily got me excited multiple times to receive an offer that never came, that
first month. That is until a young
couple looking for their first house came to look it over. With their 2 year old son, a parent, and
their realtor in tow, the tour began. As
I began giving background information on updates in the kitchen, one of the
potential buyers had slipped away into the TV room where she was looking out
the back door. Between words, I heard a soft
gasp of sorts from her, as she viewed the backyard and the park beyond. At that moment, that falling in love gasp
from what she saw and felt, seemed to have sealed the deal in my mind. As she rounded the corner to find her way
back to us, the smile on her face said it all.
She saw the potential for her home as I did, the day I walked through it
for the first time. She saw her son
playing in the backyard and taking advantage of the park they had come to visit
many times in the past. They left Beth
and me with many thanks for taking our time to share our home with them. They went directly to the realtor’s office
and called with an offer…exactly what we were asking. With that, change became palpable.
With all the hoops to jump
through during the closing process (the inspection, the appraisal, things to
fix from the inspection, displaced anger towards the inspector, things you want
to do to the inspector for things on his list of “you might want to change or fix…”, and then
there is the termite inspection and the remnants of long passed problems they
don’t want to take a chance on, but I digress…), when the time came to walk out
the door for the last time, I was ready and OK.
I did take a moment the morning of the closing, to sit in an empty house
on the floor, looking out at one of my favorite views into the backyard, toward
the tree house and into the park and revisited numerous memories. I won’t have the house anymore, but the
memories are mine.
Since then, change has meant
progress. Where we couldn’t walk before,
boxes have been moved and emptied so we can now walk. Priorities have expressed themselves in trips
to the ReStore, Goodwill, and the awesomely big trash bins up the street and
before long, hopefully before the winter thaw, the car will find its home
inside its garage each night (that it has never had) and I will have room to begin constructing our master
bathroom vanity.
There has also been a change
in the tonnage of stuff I’ve accumulated.
From what was at house #1 to what was actually moved to house #2 was reduced significantly through my eyes. But evidently not enough, because I am now pairing that down even further. If there is no place for it on a shelf, in
a corner, or hidden under the bed, it's off to the ReStore!
But the biggest change is
yet to come. The change that will allow
Beth and me to start from our own scratch, as we collect new memories,
souvenirs, and photo albums, as change waits around every corner.
Change. It’s inevitable. It’s relentless. It can be a good thing. Be open to it. Go with it.
Like the quote says…Be the change you want to see…
My Zen from Our New Home: Sometimes measuring change is seeing change...
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Why Not.
Beth had to stare this idea
in the face about a year ago. She sold
her house, moved into mine, stopped work, took her son to college, and started
a new life with me, among other things in a relatively short time. Why not…rhetorically speaking.
Well, why not again?
So here we go…
Downsizing? Less maintenance? A need for more stress? Call it what you will, but we have decided to
leave my residence of the last 25 years and join the townhome life. No more lawn mowing, snow shoveling, exterior
painting, etc… Like your first jump off
a high dive platform, making the move to take the plunge can come in different
forms. Some choose to run off the end
and plummet, waving their arms and screaming in self inflicted terror. For us, we put our toes in to test the water
before climbing up the 30-foot ladder.
Then acclimatized to the altitude, while enjoying the views. And finally, we snuck over to the edge, grabbed
each other’s hand, and stepped off the edge into the daunting abyss of real
estate. The forms, the signatures, the
walk-thrus, but ultimately the possibilities.
In the meantime, our foray
into house sitting has us on our second sit.
Our first in Colorado, was pretty much what we were looking for and
hoping for. Actually more. We made some good connections and hope to
pick up where we left off, next time, trying to fit in and be as much of a
“local” as we can, on a temporary basis.
The couch trio is made of an old deaf dog, a geriatric cat, and an epileptic canine. |
Previous to our first sit,
after being rejected a number of times for other house sitting opportunities we
had applied for, we made the connection between having experience and the lack
of it. The more references you have, the
more trusting you appear to a prospective homeowner. This brings us back to sit #2. In order to add to our reference portfolio, we
are close to home, just a few miles outside of a small town on a gravel
road. The air is fresh, the neighbors
are more than an arms length away, and the farmland around us is being
harvested daily this time of year. Under
our watch, this time, are three dogs, six cats, and an assortment of winged
insect-like critters (bugs!) for 10 days.
The last of those creatures are not on the official watch list, but seem
to appear as they wish. Oh, and add an
unexpected amphibian to the list. Beth
found a frog on her shirt following the morning feeding routine. I was notified while still in bed, by a shrill
sound I’ve not heard from her before.
So, the two of us, a small band of furry personalities, and a small town
for ten days…what’s not to love?
The townhome purchase has
begun. We offered, they countered, we
pondered, pondered some more, and accepted the counter. We signed more papers under the heading of financing than I think I signed grade
cards back in the day, but we are on track to own two properties in a short
time. Funny thing is, one property is the
limit, so it is on…sell property #1!
While property #2 is proceeding… financing, inspection, appraisal, yada
yada yada… we would like to be working towards selling property #1, but while we
are house sitting in a location our GPS couldn’t even find, the plan is to
plan. Make lists, estimate costs,
collect color samples, bookmarks websites, talk wants, needs, and wishes. Hurry up and wait.
The cats come and go as they please. Sometimes the tail wants to stay in when the body goes out. |
All of the animals are very
pleasant in their individual ways. The
cats are generally invisible until they need something and the dogs, although
more visible, are generally sleeping most of the time in plain sight. The one common denominator, or should I say
two, are pee and poop. More times than
not, we are greeted each day with a present (or three) of puddles and piles. Haven’t been able to pin it to just the
felines or the canines and there seems to be no rhyme or reason as to where or
when it happens. So the Waste Rapid
Response Team has gotten pretty good with no shortage of
practice.
So, why not. Not really a question, but a way to look at
things, make decisions, and decide what kind of day you are going to have,
before you have it. You don’t have to go
out and buy a townhome before selling your current residence, house sit a menagerie
of fur bearers, or pursue any number of questionable possibilities before you,
but keep the thought nearby…why not.
My Zen from the (Gravel) Road: House sit #1 brought us hot tub issues.
House sit #2 brought us a garbage disposal issue (easily replaced and working,
thank you very much!). When taking on
new things, new adventures, expect issues to arise. Why not?
They are part of it!
BONUS PICS
There is something to be said about a country view. |
Friday, August 21, 2015
A Tweak on Traveling
A few years before retiring,
I started to investigate the world of house sitting. Why?
Because that’s what I do. I dream
a little bit, then see how close to reality I can get to it. Hearing bits and pieces about it on the news
and in print peaked my interest and thought that it might be something to check
into when the time came. I Googled house
sitting, bookmarked a few sites and then forgot about it.
Well, the time came this
past June, I looked into a number of those bookmarked websites that connect
those who need a sitter with those
that want to be a sitter. Beth and I
joined one and have now begun our house sitting experiment to see if it is what
we thought it to be.
The process is not so
different than how I imagine match.com works, minus the dating and
heartbreak. Well, there is a little of
that too. We pay money to have our want to house sit put out there for
those that need a house sitter to
view on the website and vice versa. But
this is only after registering and filing out a profile online, not that
different than a resume of sorts, selling yourself as a potential house
sitter. Of course this is accompanied by
photos, a police check, and possibly a video (we are working up to the video). In return, each day we receive a listing of
“house sits” by email, a smorgasbord of homes around the world. And each day we sift through the list,
picturing ourselves with their pets, exploring the area, and maybe, just maybe,
sitting in their hot tub (if there is one).
Having applied for and also turned down for a number of house sits (the
“dating and heartbreak”), I began to realize its not as easy as wishing
yourself into someone else’s home.
On June 22, we connected
with a couple in a mountain town in Colorado, one of our favorite playgrounds,
and after a few back and forth emails and a FaceTime interview of sorts (the
dating thing again), we had our first house sit lined up!
Fast forward to the present
and yesterday we met the homeowners; we’ll call Jack and Jill. We arrived at their home for lunch before
they headed off on their getaway to visit family. They showed us around their beautiful home,
introduced us to their two cats (most house sits involve caring for a pet), and
we visited over lunch to get to know one another before they left for Denver
and their flight out the next morning.
Jack and Jill, being very active, took their time, sharing their insight
on hiking and biking in the area, suggesting mountain lakes to fish, and trail
heads that weren’t on the maps…local knowledge…priceless.
As the garage door closed,
the weight of this experience settled onto our shoulders. Not just anyone can walk out of their home
and leave it with virtually total strangers and entrust in them all that they
own, except what they drove away with in their suitcases. It’s easy to see how the idea of house
sitting is all about trusting relationships.
So kudos to us for making them feel comfortable enough to trust us with their
home and kudos to them for feeling confident enough to trust us with their
home.
So spending time in one area
is my tweak to traveling. In the past, a
limited amount of time urged me to get in as much as I could in the most
efficient use of time. Now, whether
through house sitting or not, spending time and blending in is the new modus
operandi (that’s right, I used modus operandi in a sentence… correctly!...I
think?).
Now…time to blend in like a
local…
My Zen from the Road: Wants and Needs... From what was written above, it sounds like I want a hot tub as part of this whole tweak in travel thing. I don't need it, but it would take some of the rough edges off the day, because blending in as a local is hard work. Hiking, biking, golfing, fishing, sitting on decking, going to concerts in the park and listening, going to little towns and touristing, resupplying the kitchen shopping, and many other ing's not listing here. But after a conversation with my sister about sitting in hot water and it's physiological benefits, from plain relaxation to lowering your blood pressure, it sounds like the want may become a need! Needs and wants...how quickly one becomes the other with a few well placed facts.
No words can describe a |
Bonus Pics
Every early morning trip departure requires sustenance. The one was supplied by Lamars. Apple Fitter! |
The trip across Kansas always provides surprises. |
Sentinels of the Sun! |
The coolest temperature I'd experienced since last spring at the Eisenhower Tunnel, but the next morning it was in the upper 30's! |
Settling in to the rigors of house sitting! |
A favorite in every yard. |
One of two cats left in our charge. Keeping them happy is a full time responsibility. |
Keeping the cats away from this guy is important, but this guys was lurking around the 15th hole, where someone spilled some french fries. |
Bingo! |
As darkness sets in, I could barely see my drive on the 18th hole, as it soared into the middle of the fairway, and the clouds were the last to catch the sun's rays. Beautimus! |
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