Some Things Don't Change

I still like to take pictures of bugs. And cemeteries. Luckily, there's an abundance of both here.

A Long, Strange Trip

9 months. I haven't updated here in 9 months. That's a record, even for me, but my energies have been focused elsewhere. And when I consider the symbolism and meaning for humans of the term "9 months", I can tell myself that I'm giving birth to a new creation, and in fact have been reborn myself.

Nine months ago, I was coming out of a very dark place, and deciding that no, I wouldn't have a nervous breakdown after all. Given the events of last Fall, having mental health issues that would have required professional intervention beyond counseling or some happy pills was a real possibility. I skated right up to the edge of that, but was able to pull back in time with some help.

And how life has changed in the past year. If I'd had a crystal ball and had forseen my future, I still wouldn't have been able to believe all that has happened.

After living in Erie since 1998, I've moved. We're now down near Gettysburg in a tiny town called Fairfield. It's a beautiful area...lots of mountains and we live on a glorified pond that we call Lake Turner. I spend a lot of time pondering the incredible fact that I can drive through the heart of a Civil War battlefield to get to the grocery store.

I'm still not gainfully employed, which needs to change very soon, but it's been nice to have the time to be able to be home with the kids as Andy and I blend our families. He's a wonderful friend, and so obviously the person I should have been with all along.

He also cooks a mean lasagna.

I've been taking pictures again, which has been fun, and I'm interested in interacting with other people again, which is another change. Who knows what the future will bring, but it's nice to find myself enjoying the ride.

Poor Mr. Worthington

Poor, poor Mr. Worthington.

Ever the vigilant sentry, Mr. Worthington generally resides on the second step leading to my front door.

Right now, though, he's a little overwhelmed by the amount of snow we've had.

And you can tell he's not happy about it, but he never, ever complains.

Patterns

Wasn't the moon AMAZING the other night? I got out my telephoto lens and tripod and managed to get a couple of really cool shots!

OK, just kidding. That's not really the moon. It's frost on my storm door. But still pretty cool, no?

What drew me to take these shots was actually the different patterns and formations I could see in the frost.

And if you know anything about me at all, you know I find symbolism in almost anything. I think too much.

So the patterns I saw here made me consider patterns in general and how they're found throughout our lives. One of my resolutions (kind of a necessity, really) this year is to be more introspective and not so impulsive. I need to do this in order to identify patterns and stop making decisions that can sometimes be very wrong.
But in addition to that, these are just pretty, I think.

Moving Forward

Some of the changes that come our way are expected and manageable or even anticipated. For example, we expect to turn from this:

to this. And people are generally ready for it. Hell, some even like it.

But when we turn from this:

to this:

the changes that are forced upon us can be incredibly draining and unwelcome.

2009 was absolutely the worst year of my life, far and away. I'm not exaggerating in the least. Much of what has happened has been bad enough that it would make the producer of a Lifetime movie shake his head and say, "No, not realistic enough. No one would believe that." So at this point, I believe I have two choices.

I can curl up and wallow in misery and self-pity, or I can try to move through grief and pain, and stumble a lot on the way, but eventually, hopefully, get better. I tried the wallowing first. It didn't get me anywhere. So all that's left is the moving forward.

And some days are still incredibly difficult. But these days are coming just a little fewer and just a little farther between. I'm not all better yet, but unlike when everything first unravelled (and then burst into flames), I can see that there will be a day when I do feel better. That's definitely an improvement.

So I'm certainly not at the end of my path....but at least I'm on it.

There's a lot to do.I'm up for it.

From the Doorway

We had some snow the other night, though nowhere near the kind of pounding the mid-Atlantic took.

I've been thinking more often about taking pictures lately (a good sign?) and actually took a couple over the weekend at Asbury Woods. (My first since before Thanksgiving.)

Today, I thought about going out into the weather, but decided I could obtain decent-enough pictures from my own doorway.

So I give myself an "A" for effort...or maybe a "B."

Things to be Thankful For

I will admit that lately, it's been hard not to be bitter. It sometimes feels easier to wallow in self-pity than to focus on the positive when you have to really work to find the positive things.

Every year, Thanksgiving is a reflective time for me, but this year I really had to struggle to identify things to be thankful for. When you're bracing yourself for what seems must be the inevitable, the next rain of frogs or plague of locusts, you're not as able to think about the good things. So I had to work hard to compile these things. To help me, I looked back at a few photos from recent months.

1. I'm thankful to live on Lake Erie, home of beautiful sunsets and other treasures.

2. I'm thankful that I can generally find interesting things to take pictures of, no matter where I go.

3. I'm thankful to live near Presque Isle State Park, where you can drive or hike or go to the beach.


4. I'm thankful for these two kiddos of mine, here in their Halloween gear. Like all kids, they're good at causing some stress on occasion, but I guess I've kept them this long so I can't let them go now. Kind of like stray dogs that you feed a couple of times, they seem to latch on. ;-) As a matter of fact, I'm thankful for my whole extended, imperfect, but supportive family.

5. And lastly (and I really had to ponder this one), I'm thankful that I'm still alive. No matter what happens, my kids need me, and they're great motivators. I may not enjoy what I'm going through right now....as a matter of fact, I may even ponder late at night that nothingness might be better, but that thought is quickly banished. I need to get stronger for them and slowly but surely, I'm trying. And trying is all anyone can ask, isn't it?

Not a Flicker, A Glimmer.

My usual m.o. when I post a new entry is to go on about how sorry I am it's been so long since I updated. Not this time. People who know me and know what has happened will understand.

These are the first pictures I've taken since mid-October. I've been too deep in a dark hole to consider even trying. As a matter of fact, I couldn't even imagine picking up my camera.

But even when we're grieving, day-to-day life demands that we attend to certain things. And so it was last Tuesday that I found myself outside, raking and bagging leaves. I was feeling extraordinarily tired. Not just from the raking, from breathing. I'd been tired before I'd even come outside.

And then I happened to look up, and I saw this bird.

At first, I had my woodpeckers mixed up, and I thought this was a Flicker. And I thought that was really poetic, because seeing her (I think it's a girl due to the lack of red blaze on the nape) made me think about how life goes on and we get through even that which seems insurmountable....you know, like a flicker of hope.

So I put down the rake and tried to go inside quietly to retreive my camera. I was able to capture quite a few shots as she made her way up and down the branches looking for food.

Later, I decided it would be a good idea to look the bird up online to make sure I had my facts straight. Turns out it wasn't a Flicker, it's a Downy Woodpecker. Now, the name Downy just doesn't seem to have the same significance as the name Flicker would have, but all the same: watching this bird made me want to capture some shots, and made me forget about my troubles for a couple of minutes. I actually felt a small glimmer of happiness and hope. And at this point, that means a lot.