The last time I posted here was the morning of March 14. That afternoon, our dear neighbor lost his 4.5 year battle with Leukemia. We had driven the 3+ hour drive to Dartmouth Hitchcock to see him the week before, but he was already heavily sedated and on a ventilator. So rather than visit him, we visited his sweet girlfriend who has fought this terrible disease at his side, every step of the way.
His name was Kevin and he was 41-years-old.
He was a good neighbor. The best. He lived right next door and rarely a day went by when we didn't see him out in his yard making it look better (and in turn, making ours look worse). From the earliest warm Spring days to the last days of fall before the snow arrived, Kevin could be seen raking, mowing, tending to plants and flowers, and making the outside of his home look like something out of a garden magazine.
In the winter, he could be seen removing every last bit of snow and ice from his driveway, and then he offered to help all the neighbors with their snow and ice. He did this even after his first two rounds of chemo. After all the snow removal, he set out on his snowmobile - something he LOVED to do.
He was a giving, sharing person who would have done anything for anyone. We have several items in our home that he gave us over the years - a buffet cabinet, a beautiful punch bowl, and countless other things. But more than that, he also loved to share a smile, a story, and another story. Kevin LOVED to chat. He was constantly up on all the goings-on in the neighborhood and around town and he loved to share his knowledge.
Although I didn't see or talk to Kevin everyday, it was always a comfort to know he was around. He was our unofficial neighborhood watch. He often stopped speeding cars and gave them a lecture. He also fed the neighborhood birds and squirrels and was friendly to the local cats - even when they used the woods by his house as a litter box. If we went out of town, we didn't even have to ask - we knew Kevin was watching our house to make sure all was well.
Now he is gone and I haven't yet wrapped my brain around that fact. We often went weeks without talking, but if nothing else, I'd wave as I drove into my driveway. I took for granted that he was just always there.
But not anymore.
Oddly, I've gotten to know Kevin's girlfriend better in the last several days than I had in the 5 years she'd lived there with him. In spite of her horrific pain and loss at this time, she is a dear, sweet gal and I look forward to getting to know her better. I only wish it were under better circumstances. It's too bad it often takes a tragedy to bring people together.
The funeral is soon and then we all will be expected to go on about our lives and move ahead. But it isn't always that easy.
Kevin is out of his misery, and for that, I am thankful. It's those of us left behind who must now suffer.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
19 March 2012
14 March 2012
The Ides of March... Almost
Beware? I'm not sure what to think. This has been the winter that... wasn't. NOT that I'm complaining. We got a weird, early snowstorm on Halloween and then another one on Thanksgiving.
And then everything melted which NEVER HAPPENS until like... May.
And then we got a couple more mediocre snow storms; only one that was worthy of a school closure, but wasn't exactly complaint worthy.
And now it's the middle of March and the snow is... gone. I mean, there are a few patches here and there in the shady spots, but if I weren't looking at the calendar and if I wasn't living in Maine, I'd say that Spring has sprung.
We saw robins in our yard last week.
My neighbor's daffodils are popping up (ours aren't because remember nothing stays alive in our yard for long).
It was 60 degrees this week. Twice. And they're saying it will be in the mid-60s next week.
To use a modern acronym that very succinctly sums up my feelings about this: WTF??
I want to be happy about this, but it feels like a trick. Like, not only will the snow come back, set up camp and stay until the middle of June, but what, pray tell, does this mean for black fly season?
So Beware the Ides of March? Yeah, I'm feeling it a little bit today. But I'm also feeling the lack of a winter coat...
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
And then everything melted which NEVER HAPPENS until like... May.
And then we got a couple more mediocre snow storms; only one that was worthy of a school closure, but wasn't exactly complaint worthy.
And now it's the middle of March and the snow is... gone. I mean, there are a few patches here and there in the shady spots, but if I weren't looking at the calendar and if I wasn't living in Maine, I'd say that Spring has sprung.
We saw robins in our yard last week.
My neighbor's daffodils are popping up (ours aren't because remember nothing stays alive in our yard for long).
It was 60 degrees this week. Twice. And they're saying it will be in the mid-60s next week.
To use a modern acronym that very succinctly sums up my feelings about this: WTF??
I want to be happy about this, but it feels like a trick. Like, not only will the snow come back, set up camp and stay until the middle of June, but what, pray tell, does this mean for black fly season?
So Beware the Ides of March? Yeah, I'm feeling it a little bit today. But I'm also feeling the lack of a winter coat...
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
12 March 2012
29 February 2012
To do:
1. Stop pretending Spring is here.
2. Make sure there is gas in the snow-blower.
3. Check the Weather Channel website every half hour.
4. Bring firewood to the basement.
5. Pause to realize I never bothered to learn how to use the generator (see #1).
6. Pause to wonder where generator directions might be.
7. Happily remember we've lived here 13 problem-free years without a generator.
8. Make room in garage for two of the cars.
9. Check to see what local friends on Facebook are saying about the storm.
10. Look at weather forecast in Arizona and cry.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
2. Make sure there is gas in the snow-blower.
3. Check the Weather Channel website every half hour.
4. Bring firewood to the basement.
5. Pause to realize I never bothered to learn how to use the generator (see #1).
6. Pause to wonder where generator directions might be.
7. Happily remember we've lived here 13 problem-free years without a generator.
8. Make room in garage for two of the cars.
9. Check to see what local friends on Facebook are saying about the storm.
10. Look at weather forecast in Arizona and cry.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
19 February 2012
Spring?
No, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth, nor have I lost my mind (regarding the title of this post). I've been busy. February in Maine usually puts us all in hibernation mode, but with temps far above average (actually temps that are UNHEARD OF) I've been in Spring mode.
Meaning, I've been doing all the things I usually do in April. Cleaning out closets and cabinets, rearranging, deep cleaning, and painting. Oh God, the painting.
About a month ago, my 19yo daughter, who is taking a semester off from college due to health issues, told me she and I ought to paint our kitchen cabinets. This, after I'd been lamenting about how chipped and scratched and UGLY they were.
So we started the project in mid January, and I figured that with a little perseverance and time management, we could finish them in a few days.
Well, guess what? She helped for a total of about ONE HOUR. Not that I'm bitter or anything, but it's been a huge job. And part of the problem is the staging - the taking off of hardware, putting doors and drawers on newspaper covered card tables, and doing all the layers of primer and paint, complete with hours of drying time.
No, I'm not finished, but I am on the home stretch. I hope to do the last of the painting tomorrow and Tuesday, and then put all the hardware back together on Wednesday. Then I'll post photos, you can be sure.
Of course, this is in between lugging in firewood (yes, it's warm but we're talking Spring-in-Maine warm, not summer warm), and doing all the other aforementioned things, as well as the day-to-day stuff.
As my very sarcastic son would say - "first world problems." Yes, they are. I'm not complaining, just reporting. Even though winters in Maine mean extra hard work, at least we HAVE firewood and a wood stove to burn it in, as well as a house full enough to need cleaning and purging. And cabinets that need painting. Oh the painting!
Yes, I am very thankful.
ESPECIALLY for this warm days...
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
Meaning, I've been doing all the things I usually do in April. Cleaning out closets and cabinets, rearranging, deep cleaning, and painting. Oh God, the painting.
About a month ago, my 19yo daughter, who is taking a semester off from college due to health issues, told me she and I ought to paint our kitchen cabinets. This, after I'd been lamenting about how chipped and scratched and UGLY they were.
So we started the project in mid January, and I figured that with a little perseverance and time management, we could finish them in a few days.
Well, guess what? She helped for a total of about ONE HOUR. Not that I'm bitter or anything, but it's been a huge job. And part of the problem is the staging - the taking off of hardware, putting doors and drawers on newspaper covered card tables, and doing all the layers of primer and paint, complete with hours of drying time.
No, I'm not finished, but I am on the home stretch. I hope to do the last of the painting tomorrow and Tuesday, and then put all the hardware back together on Wednesday. Then I'll post photos, you can be sure.
Of course, this is in between lugging in firewood (yes, it's warm but we're talking Spring-in-Maine warm, not summer warm), and doing all the other aforementioned things, as well as the day-to-day stuff.
As my very sarcastic son would say - "first world problems." Yes, they are. I'm not complaining, just reporting. Even though winters in Maine mean extra hard work, at least we HAVE firewood and a wood stove to burn it in, as well as a house full enough to need cleaning and purging. And cabinets that need painting. Oh the painting!
Yes, I am very thankful.
ESPECIALLY for this warm days...
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
29 January 2012
Locks of Love
Our daughter has had long hair for most of her life. It's been well past her waist for years.
Since Christmas, she's been talking about getting it trimmed or maybe having a few inches taken off. Then last week she decided she wanted to cut off the required amount to donate it to Locks of Love.
And that is just what she did...
Not only does she look a lot better, in my opinion, she also gave someone the gift of some very thick, curly hair.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
Since Christmas, she's been talking about getting it trimmed or maybe having a few inches taken off. Then last week she decided she wanted to cut off the required amount to donate it to Locks of Love.
And that is just what she did...
Not only does she look a lot better, in my opinion, she also gave someone the gift of some very thick, curly hair.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
20 January 2012
14 January 2012
Birthday Blues
Last night at a basketball game, a friend of ours said to me, "You are now the mother of three adults." That's because yesterday was our youngest daughter's 18th birthday. But wow - what a way to make a gal feel old.
The birthday girl's day began with her dad taking her out to breakfast as he's done every year of her life. Then she had to go on to school, which in my opinion, is just wrong. Don't you think kids should be given the day off on their birthdays? Of course, as a senior with a bad case of senioritis, she's taken many other days off so far this year, so I guess it all evens out.
Then she had a basketball game in the Bangor area, which is two-hours away from home. Being the devoted sports fans that we are, we made the trek up there, but we did it by coastal route. We even made a stop at my favorite Big Chicken Barn Antique & Used Book Store and had dinner at Dysart's Truck Stop. All this without the birthday girl, of course, who had to make the long trip by bus with her team - through freezing rain and slush.
The game was disappointing as she didn't play much and the entire team seemed to be in a funk. They lost to a team that is ranked far lower in the standings. As if that weren't enough, the coach, who had emailed all the parents telling them their daughters could ride home with them this ONE TIME, changed her mind after the loss and made the girls all ride back on the bus as punishment. This, after many parents made the long drive up to the game. Happy Birthday!
So we began the drive back, only to find that I-95 just south of Bangor was covered in ice and the snow was coming down fast and furious. We crept along at 25 and 30 MPH, only to see many cars slide right off the highway. It was a nail-biter, but we made it in just over three hours.
This morning, our newly adult daughter had to wake up early to go to her forced-volunteer job with the rest of her team of coaching elementary school children in the area, and then they have practice this afternoon. And then she works tonight. But we will celebrate SOMETIME. I have two - yes, TWO - cakes on order from The European Bakery and then - THEN - we will have fun.
Being the mom of three adults is much harder in many ways than being the mom of three small children. I would have disagreed if someone told me that at the time, because I'd have argued that at least the adults can wipe their own bottoms and tie their own shoes; but now I see that back then, at least I had some semblance of control over their lives.
These days, my babies have big kid problems over which I have very little control, if any at all. When they hurt or suffer, the most I can offer are hugs and prayers. Usually I have to stand back and watch from the sidelines (literally, in some cases) while they learn their own lessons and fight their own battles. And I have to smile strongly so they won't know it's absolutely killing me on the inside.
But that's what we moms do, isn't it?
So, for my girl who was recently voted class clown of her senior superlatives, here is one of her many senior picture photo shoots. This should clear up the whole "class clown" thing, in case there was ever any doubt.
Happy Birthday to my darling daughter who always makes us laugh. You are precious to me and will always be my baby girl, no matter what the calendar tells us.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
The birthday girl's day began with her dad taking her out to breakfast as he's done every year of her life. Then she had to go on to school, which in my opinion, is just wrong. Don't you think kids should be given the day off on their birthdays? Of course, as a senior with a bad case of senioritis, she's taken many other days off so far this year, so I guess it all evens out.
Then she had a basketball game in the Bangor area, which is two-hours away from home. Being the devoted sports fans that we are, we made the trek up there, but we did it by coastal route. We even made a stop at my favorite Big Chicken Barn Antique & Used Book Store and had dinner at Dysart's Truck Stop. All this without the birthday girl, of course, who had to make the long trip by bus with her team - through freezing rain and slush.
The game was disappointing as she didn't play much and the entire team seemed to be in a funk. They lost to a team that is ranked far lower in the standings. As if that weren't enough, the coach, who had emailed all the parents telling them their daughters could ride home with them this ONE TIME, changed her mind after the loss and made the girls all ride back on the bus as punishment. This, after many parents made the long drive up to the game. Happy Birthday!
So we began the drive back, only to find that I-95 just south of Bangor was covered in ice and the snow was coming down fast and furious. We crept along at 25 and 30 MPH, only to see many cars slide right off the highway. It was a nail-biter, but we made it in just over three hours.
This morning, our newly adult daughter had to wake up early to go to her forced-volunteer job with the rest of her team of coaching elementary school children in the area, and then they have practice this afternoon. And then she works tonight. But we will celebrate SOMETIME. I have two - yes, TWO - cakes on order from The European Bakery and then - THEN - we will have fun.
Being the mom of three adults is much harder in many ways than being the mom of three small children. I would have disagreed if someone told me that at the time, because I'd have argued that at least the adults can wipe their own bottoms and tie their own shoes; but now I see that back then, at least I had some semblance of control over their lives.
These days, my babies have big kid problems over which I have very little control, if any at all. When they hurt or suffer, the most I can offer are hugs and prayers. Usually I have to stand back and watch from the sidelines (literally, in some cases) while they learn their own lessons and fight their own battles. And I have to smile strongly so they won't know it's absolutely killing me on the inside.
But that's what we moms do, isn't it?
So, for my girl who was recently voted class clown of her senior superlatives, here is one of her many senior picture photo shoots. This should clear up the whole "class clown" thing, in case there was ever any doubt.
Happy Birthday to my darling daughter who always makes us laugh. You are precious to me and will always be my baby girl, no matter what the calendar tells us.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
04 January 2012
The Frigid Maine Coast
Yesterday my daughter and I made the most of the incredibly sunny day, and we took a drive along the coast. It was cold outside, but the sunshine shone through the windshield and we got some much needed light therapy.
Notice the lack of snow.
This morning it is 5 degrees, windy, and we are stoking our wood stove.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
Notice the lack of snow.
This morning it is 5 degrees, windy, and we are stoking our wood stove.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
02 January 2012
Looking Forward
I've heard many people commenting on how 2011 was for them. Many had a banner time, while many more are only too ready to say good-bye to such a tough year.
I realized yesterday that I hadn't taken the time to reflect on the year as a whole. I was too busy reflecting on the last couple of days, weeks, months. When I try to think about the year as a whole, it seems more like three or four years. It's been a long year, if nothing else, and it had its ups and downs.
So I've been looking back over photos and at this blog to see what exactly we did last year and WHY IT SEEMED SO LONG. The first thing I found was my New Year's Day Post from last year, and it didn't make me feel any better. This time last year, I was saying pretty much the same thing - that the year had been crazy, so crazy I was glad to see it go.
This causes me to pause and ask myself why all I ever remember are the bad times? Because life is hard? Sure it is, but it's also good.
So rather than gripe about how long and hard the year was, I choose to focus on the good: the fact that my second child graduated high school; the fact that my oldest is all grown up and I LIKE him; the fact that my husband still has a job - and one he really likes; the fact that although we are in debt, we can pay our bills; the fact that we have now been married 20 years, which is HUGE in this day and age; the fact that I have friends all over this great country, who are very dear to me; and of course the fact of good medical care.
I also choose to look forward. There is a lot of frustration and a lot of unknowns in our home right now, but there is also a lot of good. I choose to fixate on the good. I know I'll fail, because I always tend to fixate on the bad - but hey, it's good to have goals, right? :) Besides, I have this amazing family... imperfect and hard at times, but yet, there they are...
Happy New Year to you all, two days late. Better late than never? I think so.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
I realized yesterday that I hadn't taken the time to reflect on the year as a whole. I was too busy reflecting on the last couple of days, weeks, months. When I try to think about the year as a whole, it seems more like three or four years. It's been a long year, if nothing else, and it had its ups and downs.
So I've been looking back over photos and at this blog to see what exactly we did last year and WHY IT SEEMED SO LONG. The first thing I found was my New Year's Day Post from last year, and it didn't make me feel any better. This time last year, I was saying pretty much the same thing - that the year had been crazy, so crazy I was glad to see it go.
This causes me to pause and ask myself why all I ever remember are the bad times? Because life is hard? Sure it is, but it's also good.
So rather than gripe about how long and hard the year was, I choose to focus on the good: the fact that my second child graduated high school; the fact that my oldest is all grown up and I LIKE him; the fact that my husband still has a job - and one he really likes; the fact that although we are in debt, we can pay our bills; the fact that we have now been married 20 years, which is HUGE in this day and age; the fact that I have friends all over this great country, who are very dear to me; and of course the fact of good medical care.
I also choose to look forward. There is a lot of frustration and a lot of unknowns in our home right now, but there is also a lot of good. I choose to fixate on the good. I know I'll fail, because I always tend to fixate on the bad - but hey, it's good to have goals, right? :) Besides, I have this amazing family... imperfect and hard at times, but yet, there they are...
Happy New Year to you all, two days late. Better late than never? I think so.
Copyright © 2012 - Paulla Estes
25 December 2011
Merry Christmas
Snow is falling lightly on the coast of Maine.
I might have shared this song before, but it never gets old for me. And it's so very true about the lovely state in which we live...
We've had a rough couple of weeks, but by God's grace, today was peaceful and lovely memories were made.
Merry Christmas and blessings to you all...
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
I might have shared this song before, but it never gets old for me. And it's so very true about the lovely state in which we live...
We've had a rough couple of weeks, but by God's grace, today was peaceful and lovely memories were made.
Merry Christmas and blessings to you all...
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
23 December 2011
Catching up...
It's a good thing I did the 30 days of Thanksgiving in November, because shortly into December, the sh-- pretty much hit the fan. Suddenly what we thought were relatively minor health issues in our family blew up in our faces.
We're holding our own and we're all together for Christmas (yay for kids home from college) and we're thankful that for now, all is well.
But setting myself up like that for being thankful was very helpful and therapeutic. Although I've been blindsided by a few things, I've been able to go back to being thankful, after the initial shock passed.
Today, everything is calm and a gentle snowfall has covered the yard, the driveway, and the streets; enough that we are now guaranteed a white Christmas.
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
We're holding our own and we're all together for Christmas (yay for kids home from college) and we're thankful that for now, all is well.
But setting myself up like that for being thankful was very helpful and therapeutic. Although I've been blindsided by a few things, I've been able to go back to being thankful, after the initial shock passed.
Today, everything is calm and a gentle snowfall has covered the yard, the driveway, and the streets; enough that we are now guaranteed a white Christmas.
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
02 December 2011
01 December 2011
30 November 2011
Day Thirty - My Husband
When I met my husband on our blind date just over 20 years ago, I'm not sure if there was ever a date I wanted to go on less than that one. I had just come out of a 2-year relationship that ended in lie after lie being revealed, and lots of ugliness. As I mentioned in my post about my in-laws, I only agreed to meet Todd to be a sport and to get out of town for a couple of days. Besides, he was leaving the next week to move to California. I'd never see him again, so what did I have to lose?
I was living in D.C. at the time, and we met in the Virginia Beach area in late July. The weather was typical - hot and humid; emphasis on HOT. And HUMID. When he picked me up at the hotel where I was staying with my parents, he was early and I wasn't finished drying my hair. I asked him in to sit in the hotel room to wait, and the room was a mess. It was clear that he was unimpressed, but I was also unimpressed with his stoic face and lack of a smile. Our plan was to drive a half hour or so to a nearby town to see some kind of wild animal park, and then go to Historic Williamsburg. All I could think of when I first met him was, Geez, it's going to be a long day.
Yet, he WAS cute. In a non-smiling sort of way.
We got into his truck and the A/C wasn't working very well. Soon I was dying in a pool of sweat, while we tried to make small talk. Knowing now how much we both HATE small talk, I have to laugh at our efforts back then. One of the first things he told me was that in college, he had majored in history, to which I responded, "Deliberately?" Yeah, I couldn't shake being a smart ass, especially since I wasn't going to see this guy again anyway. Knowing now how seriously he takes history, and his background in it, it's a wonder he didn't throw me out of the truck. And I would have thanked him, as it had to be cooler OUTSIDE the truck, on the side of the highway.
We walked around the wild animal park, still sweating and still making small talk, but at one point, he sort of smiled. And then he made a joke. It was a goofy joke, but there it was. Wow - Grumpy has a sense of humor! Maybe this day wouldn't turn out to be as torturous as I originally feared.
Afterward, as we were driving to Williamsburg (which, I might add, I had visited before, and had no desire to visit again) it began to rain. It rained HARD. We found a parking space in the packed lot near a restaurant in the historic part of town where we'd planned to have lunch, but the rain was coming down in sheets so we just sat in the truck talking and waiting for it to subside a bit.
It didn't.
If nothing else, the rain came down harder. After about 15 minutes, we decided to make a run for it. It was about a 100 yard run through the parking lot and down a sidewalk to the front of the restaurant. By the time we got there, we were completely drenched. My cute little 80s poofy hairstyle I'd fixed while he waited in the messy hotel room was now a thing of the past. Our clothes were also soaked through. But hey, at least now we were no longer hot and sweaty.
The restaurant had a long wait, so we stood in the lobby with about a million other drenched tourists, but now we were laughing. Yes - he not only smiled, HE LAUGHED.
After lunch, the rain had subsided and cooled things off. We walked around historic Williamsburg and he pointed out all the historical sites. I pretended I was impressed, but I enjoyed his handsome face and elusive smile much more than the sites. We passed by several shops. When we got to the Laura Ashley shop, he paused and asked if I wanted to go in. I said, "No way," probably a bit too abruptly. He didn't know it then, but I'm a blue jeans girl (I was actually wearing cut offs, so it might have clued him in) and I told him Laura Ashley was just not me. He smiled again and looked relieved. Apparently his mother had told him I'd probably like that shop. Ha. She knows better now. :)
By this time, the jokes were coming more and more often, and were more and more silly. But I was beginning to be smitten, so I thought they were hilarious. And then... we went into a book store.
Understand that I am not much of a shopper. A trip to the mall is not my idea of a good time. I go because I have to - not because I want to. In fact, the only thing I like about the mall is the food court, and the book store, if there is one. That said, book stores are one of my favorite places in the world. Turns out my blind date felt the same way. Suddenly, we'd found our common interest - we started walking up and down the aisles, talking about books, comparing books we'd read, sharing books we hadn't. And this was the clincher - he was the first guy I'd ever gone out with who had read more books than I had. My heart fluttered.
When we got back to the hotel later that day, he asked me out to dinner that evening. We spent the whole next day together, going to the beach with my then 4-year-old son, and then out to dinner again that evening. After dinner, we walked to his truck in the parking garage, where we talked for another few hours.
The next day, I left to go back home to D.C. and he left to move to California. But when I left again a few days later for a vacation in Colorado, he re-routed his coast-to-coast drive so he could come spend a few days with me. It was then that I knew.
A couple of visits, many long phone calls, and five months later, we were married. Twenty years later, the only thing I'd change is that we'd have gotten married sooner. When you know, you know.
The years haven't always been easy. Many times they were downright awful, and there were times I honestly didn't think we'd make it to ten years, let alone twenty. But here we are. I'm thankful we stuck it out during the bad times. I'm thankful we made the best of the good times. I'm thankful his mom had the idea that we ought to meet in the first place. I'm thankful for our children and the joy we've found in raising them. I'm also thankful that he is my best friend and that we are still enjoying each other now that the children are growing up and leaving.
Getting married is easy. Staying married is hard. But I highly recommend it. It's so worth it. Take it from one who knows first hand. :)
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
I was living in D.C. at the time, and we met in the Virginia Beach area in late July. The weather was typical - hot and humid; emphasis on HOT. And HUMID. When he picked me up at the hotel where I was staying with my parents, he was early and I wasn't finished drying my hair. I asked him in to sit in the hotel room to wait, and the room was a mess. It was clear that he was unimpressed, but I was also unimpressed with his stoic face and lack of a smile. Our plan was to drive a half hour or so to a nearby town to see some kind of wild animal park, and then go to Historic Williamsburg. All I could think of when I first met him was, Geez, it's going to be a long day.
Yet, he WAS cute. In a non-smiling sort of way.
We got into his truck and the A/C wasn't working very well. Soon I was dying in a pool of sweat, while we tried to make small talk. Knowing now how much we both HATE small talk, I have to laugh at our efforts back then. One of the first things he told me was that in college, he had majored in history, to which I responded, "Deliberately?" Yeah, I couldn't shake being a smart ass, especially since I wasn't going to see this guy again anyway. Knowing now how seriously he takes history, and his background in it, it's a wonder he didn't throw me out of the truck. And I would have thanked him, as it had to be cooler OUTSIDE the truck, on the side of the highway.
We walked around the wild animal park, still sweating and still making small talk, but at one point, he sort of smiled. And then he made a joke. It was a goofy joke, but there it was. Wow - Grumpy has a sense of humor! Maybe this day wouldn't turn out to be as torturous as I originally feared.
Afterward, as we were driving to Williamsburg (which, I might add, I had visited before, and had no desire to visit again) it began to rain. It rained HARD. We found a parking space in the packed lot near a restaurant in the historic part of town where we'd planned to have lunch, but the rain was coming down in sheets so we just sat in the truck talking and waiting for it to subside a bit.
It didn't.
If nothing else, the rain came down harder. After about 15 minutes, we decided to make a run for it. It was about a 100 yard run through the parking lot and down a sidewalk to the front of the restaurant. By the time we got there, we were completely drenched. My cute little 80s poofy hairstyle I'd fixed while he waited in the messy hotel room was now a thing of the past. Our clothes were also soaked through. But hey, at least now we were no longer hot and sweaty.
The restaurant had a long wait, so we stood in the lobby with about a million other drenched tourists, but now we were laughing. Yes - he not only smiled, HE LAUGHED.
After lunch, the rain had subsided and cooled things off. We walked around historic Williamsburg and he pointed out all the historical sites. I pretended I was impressed, but I enjoyed his handsome face and elusive smile much more than the sites. We passed by several shops. When we got to the Laura Ashley shop, he paused and asked if I wanted to go in. I said, "No way," probably a bit too abruptly. He didn't know it then, but I'm a blue jeans girl (I was actually wearing cut offs, so it might have clued him in) and I told him Laura Ashley was just not me. He smiled again and looked relieved. Apparently his mother had told him I'd probably like that shop. Ha. She knows better now. :)
By this time, the jokes were coming more and more often, and were more and more silly. But I was beginning to be smitten, so I thought they were hilarious. And then... we went into a book store.
Understand that I am not much of a shopper. A trip to the mall is not my idea of a good time. I go because I have to - not because I want to. In fact, the only thing I like about the mall is the food court, and the book store, if there is one. That said, book stores are one of my favorite places in the world. Turns out my blind date felt the same way. Suddenly, we'd found our common interest - we started walking up and down the aisles, talking about books, comparing books we'd read, sharing books we hadn't. And this was the clincher - he was the first guy I'd ever gone out with who had read more books than I had. My heart fluttered.
When we got back to the hotel later that day, he asked me out to dinner that evening. We spent the whole next day together, going to the beach with my then 4-year-old son, and then out to dinner again that evening. After dinner, we walked to his truck in the parking garage, where we talked for another few hours.
The next day, I left to go back home to D.C. and he left to move to California. But when I left again a few days later for a vacation in Colorado, he re-routed his coast-to-coast drive so he could come spend a few days with me. It was then that I knew.
A couple of visits, many long phone calls, and five months later, we were married. Twenty years later, the only thing I'd change is that we'd have gotten married sooner. When you know, you know.
The years haven't always been easy. Many times they were downright awful, and there were times I honestly didn't think we'd make it to ten years, let alone twenty. But here we are. I'm thankful we stuck it out during the bad times. I'm thankful we made the best of the good times. I'm thankful his mom had the idea that we ought to meet in the first place. I'm thankful for our children and the joy we've found in raising them. I'm also thankful that he is my best friend and that we are still enjoying each other now that the children are growing up and leaving.
Getting married is easy. Staying married is hard. But I highly recommend it. It's so worth it. Take it from one who knows first hand. :)
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
29 November 2011
Day Twenty-Nine - Books
I am thankful for books. This goes without saying. Show me a writer who doesn't like to read, and I'll show you someone who really doesn't know how to write.
I've been reading as long as I can remember. My mom was a kindergarten teacher before I was born, so she made me her guinea pig and tried to teach me to read at age 3, just to see if it would work. It did. I've been reading ever since.
Of course, my choices in reading material haven't always been good, edifying, or helpful. Some of it has been downright harmful.
When I was about 11-years-old, someone introduced me to romance novels, many of which were downright smutty. Nothing could be worse for an 11-year-old to read. Sort of like letting little girls watch or listen to fairy tales over and over - romance novels set me up for huge disappointments in my late teens and early adulthood. To date, my young adult daughters have never read romance novels, and I hope they never will.
In middle school, I discovered horror stories. Although my mother forbid me to read it, I scored a contraband copy of The Amityville Horror
and read it each day to and from school on the bus. I was captivated. But it also scared the hell out of me. To this day, if I wake up at 3:15 a.m., I get freaked out. And the idea of a pig named Jodie with red eyes can still send shivers down my spine.
It was during college that I discovered John Steinbeck. I had read Of Mice and Men
and Cannery Row
in high school, but The Grapes of Wrath
was the book that completely blew me away. I also had a wonderful literature professor who introduced us very gently and lovingly to William Faulkner's Go Down, Moses
. It was a tough book, but she gave us a family tree that paved the way. Trust me, if you read the book, you NEED the family tree. I held onto my battered copy for years until I realized I could find it on the internet.
Over the years I've read thousands of books. Many were books I required my children to read during our homeschooling years, and many others I read to them aloud. I've read cheap, fluffy novels and deep, rich classics. As the years go by, I tend to put down more books before finishing them, than I used to. If a book doesn't "grab me" by the 2nd chapter, back it goes to the library or into the giveaway pile. The thrilling times are when I pick up a book I've never heard of and find it to be a gem. Recently for me, that includes Renato's Luck
, by Jeff Shapiro; Lit
, by Mary Karr; and now I'm reading City of Thieves
, by David Benioff.
And of course, my battered old Bible
has been a mainstay in my reading over the years. Imagine, God decided to communicate to us through the written word. I love that.
I'm thankful for all the books in my life, past and present, much like I'm thankful for the people. Ernest Hemingway said "There is no friend as loyal as a book." Well, Hemingway was a brilliant writer, but he had issues. I don't think of my books as friends, but more as mentors or security blankets. The characters inside them, however, are as real to me as my real-life family and friends.
What I wouldn't give to join in a conversation with Adam Trask, Sam Hamilton and Lee Chong from East of Eden
. I re-read their conversations occasionally, laughing and weeping at the words that always manage to surprise me. Yes, I couldn't finish this without mentioning East of Eden as my all time favorite book, past, present, and probably future.
When someone asks, what book would you take to a deserted island if you could only take one? I just say - I'll go down with the ship. There's no way I could choose just one.
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
I've been reading as long as I can remember. My mom was a kindergarten teacher before I was born, so she made me her guinea pig and tried to teach me to read at age 3, just to see if it would work. It did. I've been reading ever since.
Of course, my choices in reading material haven't always been good, edifying, or helpful. Some of it has been downright harmful.
When I was about 11-years-old, someone introduced me to romance novels, many of which were downright smutty. Nothing could be worse for an 11-year-old to read. Sort of like letting little girls watch or listen to fairy tales over and over - romance novels set me up for huge disappointments in my late teens and early adulthood. To date, my young adult daughters have never read romance novels, and I hope they never will.
In middle school, I discovered horror stories. Although my mother forbid me to read it, I scored a contraband copy of The Amityville Horror
and read it each day to and from school on the bus. I was captivated. But it also scared the hell out of me. To this day, if I wake up at 3:15 a.m., I get freaked out. And the idea of a pig named Jodie with red eyes can still send shivers down my spine.It was during college that I discovered John Steinbeck. I had read Of Mice and Men
and Cannery Row in high school, but The Grapes of Wrath was the book that completely blew me away. I also had a wonderful literature professor who introduced us very gently and lovingly to William Faulkner's Go Down, Moses. It was a tough book, but she gave us a family tree that paved the way. Trust me, if you read the book, you NEED the family tree. I held onto my battered copy for years until I realized I could find it on the internet.Over the years I've read thousands of books. Many were books I required my children to read during our homeschooling years, and many others I read to them aloud. I've read cheap, fluffy novels and deep, rich classics. As the years go by, I tend to put down more books before finishing them, than I used to. If a book doesn't "grab me" by the 2nd chapter, back it goes to the library or into the giveaway pile. The thrilling times are when I pick up a book I've never heard of and find it to be a gem. Recently for me, that includes Renato's Luck
, by Jeff Shapiro; Lit, by Mary Karr; and now I'm reading City of Thieves, by David Benioff.And of course, my battered old Bible
has been a mainstay in my reading over the years. Imagine, God decided to communicate to us through the written word. I love that.I'm thankful for all the books in my life, past and present, much like I'm thankful for the people. Ernest Hemingway said "There is no friend as loyal as a book." Well, Hemingway was a brilliant writer, but he had issues. I don't think of my books as friends, but more as mentors or security blankets. The characters inside them, however, are as real to me as my real-life family and friends.
What I wouldn't give to join in a conversation with Adam Trask, Sam Hamilton and Lee Chong from East of Eden
. I re-read their conversations occasionally, laughing and weeping at the words that always manage to surprise me. Yes, I couldn't finish this without mentioning East of Eden as my all time favorite book, past, present, and probably future.When someone asks, what book would you take to a deserted island if you could only take one? I just say - I'll go down with the ship. There's no way I could choose just one.
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
28 November 2011
Day Twenty-Eight - My Neighbors
I've lived in a lot of different places, sometimes multiple homes/apartments in the same general area. Needless to say, I've had all types of neighbors.
When I was in high school, there was a boy who lived across the street that seemed to want to terrorize people. He had issues, and his story is sad, but back then, he was just a punk who peeped into people's windows and left broken glass at the end of their driveways. Our who family was glad to move away from that neighbor.
When my children were little and we lived in Navy Housing, every house on the block had at least three children (it was required to live there) so it was pretty much a free-for-all. Truly, I'd probably hate that now, but it was in Southern California and the kids could play outside year round and I LOVED it. Even when some of the neighbor kids were annoying.
Today in Maine, we live in a quiet neighborhood where most of the kids have grown up here, so a lot of them have moved on. There are a few young families, but not many. It is quiet. Wonderfully quiet.
But it's my immediate neighbors that make this home so delightful. We have one set of neighbors who shares our love of cats, and we take turns cat-sitting for one another when one of us goes out of town. We have a neighbor right next door who is our own personal neighborhood watch. He always knows what's going on and he looks out for everyone. He has been battling leukemia for the past few years (and winning, I might add!) and he is a wonderful neighbor. There is another family down the street a bit who also looks out for others. This summer, they replaced their front stoop, so they gave us their old (good) one. They are so kind.
We don't see any of these neighbors as often as one might think. Not only are we all busy with our lives, our homes are set back from the street and hugged by trees, and let's face it - Maine winters aren't very conducive to chatting it up with a neighbor over the back fence. More likely, we share a cold wave and nod while plowing our driveways or scurrying down our icy paths to get the mail.
Although we don't see each other often, I know my neighbors have my back, and I have theirs. That is something for which I am very, very thankful.
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
When I was in high school, there was a boy who lived across the street that seemed to want to terrorize people. He had issues, and his story is sad, but back then, he was just a punk who peeped into people's windows and left broken glass at the end of their driveways. Our who family was glad to move away from that neighbor.
When my children were little and we lived in Navy Housing, every house on the block had at least three children (it was required to live there) so it was pretty much a free-for-all. Truly, I'd probably hate that now, but it was in Southern California and the kids could play outside year round and I LOVED it. Even when some of the neighbor kids were annoying.
Today in Maine, we live in a quiet neighborhood where most of the kids have grown up here, so a lot of them have moved on. There are a few young families, but not many. It is quiet. Wonderfully quiet.
But it's my immediate neighbors that make this home so delightful. We have one set of neighbors who shares our love of cats, and we take turns cat-sitting for one another when one of us goes out of town. We have a neighbor right next door who is our own personal neighborhood watch. He always knows what's going on and he looks out for everyone. He has been battling leukemia for the past few years (and winning, I might add!) and he is a wonderful neighbor. There is another family down the street a bit who also looks out for others. This summer, they replaced their front stoop, so they gave us their old (good) one. They are so kind.
We don't see any of these neighbors as often as one might think. Not only are we all busy with our lives, our homes are set back from the street and hugged by trees, and let's face it - Maine winters aren't very conducive to chatting it up with a neighbor over the back fence. More likely, we share a cold wave and nod while plowing our driveways or scurrying down our icy paths to get the mail.
Although we don't see each other often, I know my neighbors have my back, and I have theirs. That is something for which I am very, very thankful.
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
27 November 2011
Day Twenty-Seven - Texting
I am thankful for cell phones. And I just have one question: what DID we do before cell phones? How did I survive high school in the 80s without being able to text anyone? How did my mom know when to pick me up from school? How did any of us communicate at all?
We made the best of our primitive circumstances, didn't we? We actually had to plan ahead for rides. And we had to pick up the phone (the one attached to a wall) if we wanted to chat with a friend.
There are some things about this technology-obsessed world that I don't like. But I LOVE cell phones. Even though I'm not supposed to do it, I text my kids while they're in class at school. Hey, they're MY kids and I'm paying taxes for that school; I'll do what I want.
I also love that I can communicate quickly with someone without having to go through all the pleasantries that come with a phone call. Texting saves time. Rather than a 10-minute chit chat, I can say - "Still meeting at 10?" And get a response within minutes or even seconds - "Yep." And there you go, conversation over.
Even my mom and dad have embraced texting. My dad and I text back and forth during football games - me in Maine and him in California. We talk about the game without actually TALKING during the game. No interruptions, just - "Did you see THAT?" Or "Tebow did it again!"
So if you don't have a cell phone or if you're not a texter, you might not ever hear from me.
Just so you know.
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
We made the best of our primitive circumstances, didn't we? We actually had to plan ahead for rides. And we had to pick up the phone (the one attached to a wall) if we wanted to chat with a friend.
There are some things about this technology-obsessed world that I don't like. But I LOVE cell phones. Even though I'm not supposed to do it, I text my kids while they're in class at school. Hey, they're MY kids and I'm paying taxes for that school; I'll do what I want.
I also love that I can communicate quickly with someone without having to go through all the pleasantries that come with a phone call. Texting saves time. Rather than a 10-minute chit chat, I can say - "Still meeting at 10?" And get a response within minutes or even seconds - "Yep." And there you go, conversation over.
Even my mom and dad have embraced texting. My dad and I text back and forth during football games - me in Maine and him in California. We talk about the game without actually TALKING during the game. No interruptions, just - "Did you see THAT?" Or "Tebow did it again!"
So if you don't have a cell phone or if you're not a texter, you might not ever hear from me.
Just so you know.
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
26 November 2011
Day Twenty-Six - Parties
Today I am thankful for parties. Usually when we go to a party or have a party, we'll say, "Aw, we really ought to do that more often." But we never do. And really, if we did, that would take the fun out of it.
There are some people we only see when we go to parties, but we always have fun with them. We always say we ought to get together with them at other times, but life is so busy and we never do. Maybe we will when we have our empty nest; or when the weather gets warmer; or when we get out of debt;... or maybe we never will. Maybe that's as far as that relationship will go.
And that's OK. That's where we are in our lives right now. And that's why I'm thankful for the parties. :)
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
There are some people we only see when we go to parties, but we always have fun with them. We always say we ought to get together with them at other times, but life is so busy and we never do. Maybe we will when we have our empty nest; or when the weather gets warmer; or when we get out of debt;... or maybe we never will. Maybe that's as far as that relationship will go.
And that's OK. That's where we are in our lives right now. And that's why I'm thankful for the parties. :)
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
25 November 2011
Day Twenty-Five - Good Friends
This is the smallest Thanksgiving we've had since... since we were first married. And actually, we liked it that way. There was no schedule to keep, we were extremely casual in our dining, we didn't have to make the house especially presentable and we didn't have to go anywhere.
Over the nearly 20 years that we've been married, we've had Thanksgiving with various friends and family members, sometimes at our house and sometimes at the homes of others. In the past few years, our closest relatives have been doing their own thing, so it's just been us and our kids. But then on Saturday evening after Thanksgiving, we have some friends who throw an After-Thanksgiving-Leftovers-Party.
This is a wonderful idea because it is low key and you can bring anything you want. It doesn't have the coziness and intimacy associated with Thanksgiving, but it has all the fun and celebration of more like a New Year's Eve Party.
But yesterday, in thinking about all the things for which I'm thankful, I found that good friends is up near the top of my list. Having lived all over the country I have left friends here and there along the way. Consequently, I've suffered through many good-byes, but I also have people to visit if/when I go back. I'm thinking of my friend Lori, in Colorado; my friends Connie, Bob & Nicole and Kelley & Evan in San Diego; my friend Kellie in Missouri; my friends Debbie and Jackie in Virginia; my friend Becky right here in my neighborhood; not to mention all my Internet Friends I talked about earlier this month. Those online friends have become real life friends and they know who they are.
There is also my very special friend, Michelle, who died a few years ago, but whose voice I can still hear when I wonder "what Michelle would say about that." Her death at a young age was a shock and still is, and I will never forget her.
What would life be without our friends? I've sat here trying to write a sentence summing up what my friends mean to me, and I find I don't have the words. Of course I think of my husband as my best friend, and he is, but my other friends, even the ones I don't see or talk to regularly, have been there for me at times when perhaps my husband wasn't around (Navy deployments) or if HE happened to be the one I was mad at (not that that's ever happened). :)
My friends have helped to make me who I am today. Thank you, friends. I couldn't survive this crazy world without you.
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
Over the nearly 20 years that we've been married, we've had Thanksgiving with various friends and family members, sometimes at our house and sometimes at the homes of others. In the past few years, our closest relatives have been doing their own thing, so it's just been us and our kids. But then on Saturday evening after Thanksgiving, we have some friends who throw an After-Thanksgiving-Leftovers-Party.
This is a wonderful idea because it is low key and you can bring anything you want. It doesn't have the coziness and intimacy associated with Thanksgiving, but it has all the fun and celebration of more like a New Year's Eve Party.
But yesterday, in thinking about all the things for which I'm thankful, I found that good friends is up near the top of my list. Having lived all over the country I have left friends here and there along the way. Consequently, I've suffered through many good-byes, but I also have people to visit if/when I go back. I'm thinking of my friend Lori, in Colorado; my friends Connie, Bob & Nicole and Kelley & Evan in San Diego; my friend Kellie in Missouri; my friends Debbie and Jackie in Virginia; my friend Becky right here in my neighborhood; not to mention all my Internet Friends I talked about earlier this month. Those online friends have become real life friends and they know who they are.
There is also my very special friend, Michelle, who died a few years ago, but whose voice I can still hear when I wonder "what Michelle would say about that." Her death at a young age was a shock and still is, and I will never forget her.
What would life be without our friends? I've sat here trying to write a sentence summing up what my friends mean to me, and I find I don't have the words. Of course I think of my husband as my best friend, and he is, but my other friends, even the ones I don't see or talk to regularly, have been there for me at times when perhaps my husband wasn't around (Navy deployments) or if HE happened to be the one I was mad at (not that that's ever happened). :)
My friends have helped to make me who I am today. Thank you, friends. I couldn't survive this crazy world without you.
Copyright © 2011 - Paulla Estes
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