A Race

A week or so ago, I needed to get out of the house.  I had itchy feet and I knew I needed to drive.  I just needed to drive somewhere, it didn't really matter where.

Accompanied by the vocal stylings of Bret Michaels (Poison 4everrrrr), I rolled down the windows on my miniv...*ahem*, crossover vehicle, and turned up the radio.  I just started going south.  I drove south, out of the city, winding past close-set houses, until I got further out.  I started passing by wide, lush lawns, huge homes set far back from the road, and kept going.  I drove until I ran out of asphalt.  I live in Kansas, so it actually didn't take as long as you'd think.  Then, I took a left, and another right, and drove south again until I ran out of asphalt.  Slowly, I turned around and meandered home, taking another route, past houses I'd never seen before.

My life's motto!

Every once in a while, the only fix my poor, wanderlusting heart can get for the gypsy feeling is to just go.  I beg my husband to go on Sunday drives, but he's not as fond of wasting gas as I am, I guess.  Occasionally, I get the opportunity to run away, just for a half hour, or maybe a few hours, or even just 10 minutes.  I don't want to escape my life, but I need to run out of my skin for a minute.  I need to feel the wind and see the countryside.  I need to blast my radio and sing out loud.  Sometimes, I need to chase the sunset...or sunrise.  Depends on the day.

In the midst of my drive though, I realized that one of the last times I did this, I had to turn around rather quickly and go back to familiar territory.  My anxiety belted itself into my passenger seat and mocked me.  It scowled as I took off and cringed the further away from my home I got.  When I got to an area where the land rose and became hilly, it wound itself up as tight as a coiled snake and its tail started rattling.  I knew I couldn't make it.  I knew that it was going to bite me.  So, I turned around.  I looked at my piteous self in the rearview and I drove back home, defeated.

This time was different.  My heart soared and I kicked anxiety to the curb like the unwanted hitchhiker it was. I outran my skin that day and for a few moments in time, I was happy.

Life is what you make of it and I am taking my gypsy heart for a ride more often.  I'm making a life that is no longer consumed by anxiety.  I hope you get the chance to outrun your fears, even just for a moment.

Tuesday 5: It be Stormin'

Hey everyone!  Time for a Tuesday 5.  I'm not doing these regularly anymore, but that's okay, I still like to contribute every once in a while.  I get so caught up in the random mundane stuff, between a new job and a prayer retreat, it's been a busy few weeks.

Courtesy:  Catster.com

1.  It is raining cats and dogs over here today.  Don't step in a poodle!  Haha.  We had the tornado sirens going off about an hour ago and it's still raining like crazy.  Just another wild day in Kansas.  When I was a kid and it was getting ready to storm, my Dad would open up the garage door and we'd sit on lawn chairs in the garage, just watching the weather roll in.  I love the smell of a storm moving in and I love the smell of the cleansed earth after it's done.  I've become a bit more cautious as I've gotten older, but I still love to watch storms roll in.  That elemental feeling is hard to describe.

2.  Unfortunately, bad weather now means my husband is sure to get called out.  He's a signal maintainer for the railroad and whenever bad weather hits, he almost always gets called out, because either the signals are malfunctioning because of lightning strikes or the water rises over the tracks and causes stuff to go off.  He got called out about 30 minutes or so ago.  I do worry, but I know that he is good at his job and he is a smart guy, so he's going to do what he can to mitigate any danger.  Still, I sometimes hate when he gets called out.  My stepkids are with their mothers and I'm here alone with the cats.  Thank goodness for books.

3.  Speaking of books, I just finished Paige Kellerman's new book, The Beer's Folded and the Laundry's Cold.  It was full of funny anecdotes related to her new role as mother and housewife.  It's a quick read and as always, full of pop culture references.  Paige is very good at turning a phrase and I enjoyed it.  She's also a fellow Kansan, so I'm sure she's outside right now looking up at the sky, too!  You can read more of the funny by following her on Facebook and at her blog, There's More Where That Came From.  Buy it here.

4.  This week is National Infertility Awareness Week.  I have blogged about this several times, but my (in)fertility journey has been a long and arduous one.  It was hard.  It was REALLY hard.  It's not hard to remember how I felt during those endless months of being poked and prodded, told I was too fat, given endless vaj cams, and made to feel about as tall
as Tom Thumb any time the subject of pregnancy came up.   It's so hard to know how it's all going to turn out when you are in the middle of it.  Looking back on those years of struggle, the torturous pregnancy tests, shots, and feelings of hopelessness seem so overwhelming.  And yet, here I am.  I made it through to the other side.  One angel baby in heaven waiting for me and no babies in my arms.  I'm not sad, but I am wistful.  I am also very, very grateful for God's love and grace.

5.  I was part of a Christ Renews His Parish retreat at my parish two weekends ago.  I'm Catholic and this program was started in the 70s in another state.  Its aim is to help people find a deeper commitment with Christ, but also to get to know their neighbors and friends that occupy the pews.  It's a wonderful program and there were some amazing witnesses given.  I would encourage anyone, Catholic or not, to find a church offering this and check it out.  Then, bring it back to your church if you like it.  It's a fabulous way to learn more about yourself, Christ, and the other people in the parish.  I have met some very dear people and been delighted to share time, prayer, and scripture with them.

Have a great week everyone!

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Ad Astra

When I get to work early in the morning during the winter, I park in a lot a block and a half away from the building that I work in.  I work downtown across the street from the statehouse.  I am one of the early workers.  I love it, because then I get to leave earlier, which is nice because I beat the high traffic times and get home early to work out and get things done around the house.  (Or, you know, sit around playing on the computer while browsing Facebook, Pinterest, and Etsy.)  Anyhow, during the winter, the Capitol building is gorgeous.  It's still a little dark, the sun hasn't peeked out yet, and the beautiful copper (for now) dome with our Native American archer, Ad Astra, on top, stands tall against a sumptuous deep blue sky.

I live in Kansas and I was born and raised here.  I was raised in an idyllic small town.  You know the type.  It had an actual soda jerk fountain behind two horseshoe shaped counters at the drug store.  You could order actual cherry sodas, the actual soda with ice cream.  My favorite drink was a chocolate Dr. Pepper.  They sold Tootsie Pops and you could even turn in the wrappers with stars on them for a free one!

My town had several churches, a couple local restaurants, and a dime store that when I was really young, you could buy actual penny candy.  You didn't get charged tax until it was more than $0.25 worth.  We walked home from school every single day and I would sometimes stop in at the City Clerk's office to see my Mom.  She still works there.

The dirt road near my in-law's house

In my small town, everybody knew everyone and everyone's business, both good and bad.  We played in the streets, at the ballfield, in our neighbors' backyards, and down by the creek every single day until my friend's mom whistled loudly for supper.  We had several elderly neighbors that we would periodically visit and bring them cards and drawings.  In exchange, we'd get candy or pop, or sometimes wood scraps to use to build cities for our Hotwheels.

Not a lot has changed there since I graduated high school and moved away.  The drug store was replaced by a dentist's office and the soda fountain got moved across the street to a little cafe.  Several stores downtown changed hands, the brick Main street we cruised every Friday and Saturday night was redone, and they added a stop sign to the old 3-way stop at the end of Main.  That's hard to get used to and I'm sure many a returning voyager has accidentally blown through that stop sign.

Planting is done

Kansas invades your soul.  It is full of plains of possibilities, endless farmland that beckons to be tilled and planted, then burned and tilled again.  Abandoned farmhouses become the homes of itinerant cattle and the sun sets on golden waving wheat during the early summer and austere landscapes broken up by half-cut corn stalks in the winter.

I can breathe here.  I can breathe anywhere, but especially here.  The ghosts of my forefathers root me to the ground and I am whole again.  Many weekends we visited my grandparents.  They each had farms.  We bottle fed calves, let them suck on our fingers, and I even rode one of them with my Grandpa's help!  We played with runt pigs, jumped off the end of an old cattle chute, climbed on top of the old tractor tire leaned up against the barn, and snuck mulberries off the trees, our stained fingers and lips telling the tale for us.

My daughter and her Grandpa, several years ago

To be a citizen of Kansas is to wear the badge of toughness and determination.  Pride and perseverance are familiar traits, reminding us of our Dust Bowl ancestors and our innovators, explorers, inventors, and artists.  We are not all Dorothys, but we do all share a common yearning for home in our souls.

I will probably never truly leave this state.  My heart staked its claim on this rough hewn ground long ago.  Kansas is too beautiful and stoic to be forgotten or left anywhere. Years from now, hopefully rocking on the front porch beside my husband, I will still have those memories of warm summer breezes fishing in the little pond a few miles on the gravel from our old house.  I will still gaze in awe at the pristine sky filled with billions of stars and I will still feel the love for this place deep in my bones.

Happy 154th Birthday Kansas!!