The watermelon has expired and now it’s slime

The wheels fell off this week
(File this title in something I never thought I’d text my kids)
The scene of the slime

I pride myself on running a pretty tight ship around here. Not in a controlling or dominating way, but since I have the idle hours that I mentioned in one of my recent posts, some of those hours are used to keep it tidy and running smoothly. I like it that way and clean and organized helps to keep my mind in a good place too. This week the wheels fell off. Sorry for the mixed metaphors, some of my recovery friends use this term, I think I discovered my new term for when this happens: the watermelon has turned to slime.

Let’s back up to moving my dad. A couple weekends ago we trekked back to Denver to pack up his things and bring him to an assisted living facility in Utah. The road trip part of the move went far better than we could have expected. Even with a very very long driving day, unanticipated longer than usual stops because charging an EV in the extreme heat takes awhile. We’d get out, eat something, walk around, then get back on the road. He remembered so many landmarks along the way despite his dementia and probably more than a decade between him and the last time he ventured this far west. He didn’t seem to want the driving to end and the rest of us were far more exhausted than he was that day. I was informed that he slept really well that first night, like 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Amazing. So far, so good, so great actually. Maybe he’d adjust well to these new surroundings.

The following weekend we grabbed dad out for much of Saturday afternoon, we brought him to our house to explore and relax, an easy, mundane visit really, but things shifted as soon as we took him back to his new home. And I’m learning what his limits are, which is good for future planning. We got him back around 4:30 pm and he was fatigued and agitated, sundowning as it’s known in the memory care world. A visible shift from easy going and laughter to anger, confusion, and sadness. I gently explained that this was his home, I’d come back to see him in another few days, and even though he was upset he seemed to get to a place of acceptance I was able to leave mostly guilt free. This is akin to leaving your crying toddler at daycare and trusting that the overflow of emotion will only last a minute or two as you the parent drive off sobbing. Transitions are hard, and at certain parts of the day for him should be avoided.

A few days later I got a call that dad had tried to leave. He explained to the house staff that he was walking down to the store to buy cigarettes. He made it as far as the park a block away. This is the boundary we are exploring in this assisted living setting. His former home was a locked unit, so the temptation to leave didn’t exist. Here, the population of residents is mixed and folks can come and go as they please. I love that he can be outside as much as he would like to be, each time I go to visit him he’s sitting or snoozing peacefully on the front porch. Outside is good for all of us, I wish more places for the aging had the capacity to let their residents be outside for at least a little bit each day.

Two nights ago, the exploring became a little more fraught. I got a call a little before 6pm, dad had wandered off, did they want me to call the police or look for him for a few minutes first?. I said look first, and not five minutes later got another call that he had been located (in the park again), but was now refusing to get of the staff member’s car and was threatening to get violent. I offered to drive down to help get him deescalated since I likely have more sway with him than the people still just getting to know him. By the time I arrived about 40 minutes later, he had indeed exited the car but refused to go back in the house. Similar to the late afternoon drop off/transition last weekend, his haunches were up and he was quite agitated. But this dad is the one I remember from my childhood, alcohol had made him unpredictable and angry like this lots of times, there’s no reasoning with anyone in that kind of state, so instead of fighting him about going in I offered to take him for a car ride.

We cruised Main Street, grabbed him a Big Mac at McDonald’s, I stumbled upon a smoothie shop for something for myself, and very suddenly his mood started to visibly shift. I offered going back to his new home, and while he stated very clearly he wasn’t going back there, his tone was more matter of fact than angrily felt. I offered to buy him some (non alcoholic) beer and watch something on tv with him (this was his nightly ritual pre-dementia after all). He acquiesced and settling him back into the house was easy from there.

Yesterday I returned to visit during the early part of the day, took him out to lunch, and we have plans to bring him on an outing tomorrow earlier in the day now that we know better when he’s more available and less likely to become agitated. Now I get to balance the dog’s incredible separation anxiety with the human needs around me, but that’s a different issue altogether.

While I’m so grateful to be available to my dad like this, it takes a huge emotional and physical toll. Maybe that’s what my idle time has been for, for storing up some reserves so that I have the capacity to jump into action when the situation arises. It seems I have infinite patience for him and immediately know what to do when things like this happen. I don’t get panicked, even if told they don’t know where he’s at momentarily. But yesterday afternoon and much of today have been spent recuperating from the whole ordeal. I have to keep coming back to me and my needs or I’ll quickly get lost in what everyone else needs around me, yes even the dog (hello recovering codependent).

Back to the melted watermelon though. I woke up today to a mysterious liquid on the counter and traced it to a watermelon I had cut half of earlier in the week and then neglected to finish cutting a day or two later. I looked around and yes, Zach and the kids do a fine job at tidying up, making their own meals, etc. but it’s the little jobs like finishing cutting the watermelon that get overlooked. There’s a give and take, a balance, a dance we all do around my dad’s caretaking that does and will continue to shift and shape how we do things around the homestead and where and when we each contribute. A fellow sandwich mom (the generation of caregivers that are sandwiched between still raising kids while their parents age and need more help) that I follow on socials summed it up pretty succinctly, my kids may not need me the way they once did and it’s in different hours now. They have emotional needs that they didn’t before, and same goes for my dad. So I keep different business hours so to speak. And in all that I’m grateful once again for the time and space to come back to me and this place and get the wheels back on, or the slime mopped up or insert your preferred metaphors here.

Idle time

I finished filling up a gratitude journal before bed last night. When I penned the last page I flipped to the front again to look at the date. Writing out my gratitude list has been a decade + long process, I have several finished journals that store small snippets of most of my adult life, but this one in particular has the details of the last two years in which a lot of living has been done.

This journal started in March of 2020, a time when we were all forced into a global slowing down, isolating, an invitation to reset and restore in so many aspects of life. We took that invitation as a jumping off point for the next chapter of our lives. Much of it is documented here in the blog so I’ll save you the recap because you can go back and read for yourself if that is of interest.

Moving to Utah is the culmination of that whole journey, and I’m back to a reflective place that we all got to experience for a while there at least.

With the kids back in school all day, this has been the most quiet week I’ve had on my own in a very, very long time. (Just last week I wrote how eager I was for this!) I’m listening to a lot of podcasts, reading more, getting outside for a daily morning dog walk and weeding the backyard, getting some home and adulting admin things done, trying to spend less time on my phone or mindlessly scrolling Instagram (it’s hard!), dreaming, preparing. There is not anything of urgency that I HAVE to do right now, and that is an uncomfortable place for me to sit. The wheels in my mind keep spinning and I am recognizing that most days and weeks are busy and full to the brim with mine and everyone else’s needs that it keeps me distracted, in both good and maybe not so good ways.

So this post is an ode to idleness. I don’t always have to have a pressing thing going on, I don’t have to justify my day, I can sit, I can shower at noon, I can savor the quiet and not admonish myself for not doing more, I can fully rest before things pick up again – because they always do (and will in two days in fact, when we go to move my dad).

I’ve been particularly observant of our puppy Millie during this idle time too, I mean she’s my only companion during the quiet day. I’ve noticed her chewing on things that she didn’t when we first got her. My shoelaces being the newest victim. She is distracted enough when the kids are here, she follows us all around like, well, a puppy 🐶 But if she stops for too long and isn’t worn out enough from her walk or I’m doing something in another room that doesn’t interest her, she’ll sneak off and find something to chew. Is this how I am with my phone? Can I just BE without needing a distraction?

These thoughts invited me to ponder society as a whole, particularly the American “get ‘er done” mindset. When was the last time you just sat, trying not to think too much about your to do list, what was upcoming, etc.? I mean just truly sat in a very present moment with no agenda. It’s not a practice we are taught or that is modeled for us in very many realms. I read an email every morning from Richard Rhor that is all about contemplation. Have I ever really done it? Yes, but in very very small bites, and not with any regularity. Maybe this is my invitation (and maybe yours too), to a more contemplative place.

I’m very much a ready, fire, aim, (oops) type thinker and doer. Maybe it’s time to consider a different starting place. Beginning somewhere more mindful and centered. Maybe. Curiosity it’s is always a good learning tool for me, so I’m going to start there.

Lived-in

The summer has absolutely flown by, what even is time?

We’ve been making this old house our cozy home for the past 7ish weeks, and still have a ways to go. The projects, at times, feel endless, but we also save plenty of space for rest and recreation. Our favorite close place is Palisade State Park, a 20 minute drive to a small lake where we can paddle board and jump off rocks. There’s also close hiking and easy access to recreation all around us.

Day trip to Manti-La Sal National Forest

The kids are both registered for public school five miles down the road in Gunnison. (BTW there is a lot of overlap with names of places here that Colorado has, sorry for any confusion). The feelings about school are a mixed bag around here. One kid thrives on structure and is excited, the other is more reserved and pensive. Fortunately they both already knows at least a handful of kids, so perhaps some of the first day jitters don’t have to show up. They start this Thursday (!), I’m quite excited for a return to solitary days since it’s been more than two years. We’ve had A LOT of one another during this whole pandemic/tiny travel life/houseless/couch surfing situation. Don’t get me wrong, I love those two nuggets like nothing else, but mama needs some alone time to get her brain screwed back on straight.

We had a fantastic visit with our Denver friends to celebrate both Sara and Utah’s birthday. Who will be our next visitors?

Work work work… the travel fatigue has worn off for Zach who commutes 90 miles each way to work everyday. He got himself an electric car after doing the math of car payment vs. paying for rent on a place in Provo. I go up to Provo either solo or with kids about once every three weeks for the bigger supply runs and to attend an Alanon meeting in person. I can say with certainty that I much prefer this drive to anything in the metro Denver area. The miles are big but there is virtually zero traffic, and now with gas prices easing up a bit it’s not nearly as painful on the wallet. Needs continue to be a couch (want something very specific second hand) and a deep freeze as we hope to get a half a cow in this fall, to also go easier on the weekly grocery budget.

House plant shopping in Provo with Sara

Projects we’ve already knocked out include fence mending, building some gates from repurposed screen doors that were left here, furniture sourcing and mending, general electrical tidying up, drywall mending and paint, bathtub sealing, nonstop cutting and trimming of the big elm trees that drop things nearly every day. Yes, this place came remodeled, no not everything is perfect or was done in the most sensical manner, so we’re making it make sense for us with what we have and whatever else can come later. There’s plenty more on the horizon including getting some chickens and gardens going, we just got here a little too late into the growing season to make much happen thus far. I did apply for a native pollinator grant that the state was offering and I’ll receive 150 native plants in about a month, very excited about that.

Update on dad: The biggest impending update to share is that we are moving my dad to Utah at the end of the month! It’s been extremely difficult making decisions for him these past two months. Getting a call from his assisted living home ties my stomach in knots because there’s not a lot I can do from this distance. We played with the idea of him living with us and me being his full time caregiver, but in the end have decided on another assisted living facility so he can get the hands on support he needs and I don’t have to be worried about him falling in this old house that has so many weird half steps and thresholds, not to mention the claw foot tub situation, (like how would he even get in there?). Huge kudos to anyone giving an aging or sick loved one full time care, it is so much work and there are not nearly enough supports, that is what ultimately made our decision here. Could I do it, yes, Does it mean I should? For the time being, it’s a no.

Writing, dreaming, business-ing: With this much needed shift in available time, I hope to get back into wring this long form more often. I shared a lot over these last two years, the heights of our adventures and the depths of my sorrows with dad’s quick diagnosis and decline. I want to continue documenting the journey, and the writing process is so much more meaningful to me as opposed to quick blurbs on Instagram. We also have this whole storefront that we get to dream into something meaningful for our community. The wheels have been turning on ideas since before we even got here, more is always being revealed. We’ve been collecting intel on other historic mercantile buildings in the surrounding small towns, time to get some ideas into action. These last few months have felt quite surreal, Camden often mutters “this place is too good for us”, but I have a different perspective. This place is what we dreamed of for a good long while and the willingness to go on the journey that got us here makes us that much more grateful and appreciative of all the things big and small that make it so good. The locals often ask us how we found ourselves here. We joke that it was the house that found us. I still can’t believe that it’s true, but we are rooting in here just fine and the doors are always open for a visit.

Covid and moving during a pandemic

Former ZCMI Department Store. 9 North Main Street Fayette, Utah

Funny (not funny) how this title could have been written anytime in the past two years. In fact, I know a lot of people who moved between 2020-2022 because the pandemic rearranged a lot of our priorities. It certainly did ours, and we’re certainly grateful for the grand adventures we had during the first half of it all. But this last 18 months has been a doozy and a huge practice in acceptance and embrace of uncertainty.

Let me back up to what we’ve been up to since the last time I posted two months ago (yikes!). Our little family has been pining for a homestead and a place to take new roots for much of these past two years. A lot of places got our hopes up, but we’d get down to business of planning it out and something would derail. It’s okay, it just meant it wasn’t meant to be and a lot of no’s would eventually land us on a yes. We are crystal clear on our yeses. We are picky, we know what we want and what won’t work for us.

We started to look at properties early spring on Colorado’s western slope. Two or three small towns specifically (once again, being very picky). We got our mortgage docs in order and started shopping. We all know how bonkers the housing market has been, but we figured we could take our time for the right thing because in rural places things move slower and there’s less of the wild competition for housing compared to the front range. We found a house we liked OK and put in an offer that was accepted, but the deal fell apart once we completed the inspection because there were just too many things to overcome that we didn’t want to be paying for for decades to come. (It wasn’t a hell yes.)

Back to the drawing board and back to family separation, because Zach has continued working in Utah and making trips back to the metro area as weekends and our budget has allowed.

About a month ago I started looking at real estate listings in rural areas of Utah. We’ve always enjoyed it as a place to visit, (hello 10 year Moab Thanksgiving tradition,) and Zach’s been falling more in love with it everyday. Could we be open to living there? Without knowing a whole lot about the areas we could afford we put an inquiry out to Zach’s landlord who is also a realtor. We started texting her some listings we liked and let it lie for a few weeks. As soon as the kids finished their online school year, we hit the road for an extended break in Provo to visit Zach’s current town and to hopefully find our next place.

We went into this week completely open minded, maybe we’d find a nice Provo rental so we could be all together every night, maybe we’d find some new little town within commuting distance. One of the listings we had sent to the realtor kept speaking to me though and I kept thinking about that little place. Maybe we should just look at that and start there, it was on our way into Provo after all.

That travel morning the kids and I stopped for a “quick” hike in Moab and I very quickly remembered why we love that place so much. Spring was very abundant in the desert and everything was green and blooming. It was also unseasonably cool so we didn’t mind hiking 5 miles in May. After a full morning we hustled our way to Fayette, Utah about 3 hours northwest to make our showing appointment where we’d meet Zach and the realtor, Emily. Upon first look, we really liked this place, but I was very disoriented and almost sick feeling from the long hike and drive, we also had another appointment to make in another small town 45 minutes away. The next house was in a more convenient town with more amenities, but it was creepy AF with the grandma’s antique doll collection everywhere, and the house needed more work than the first place. Emily agreed to send us more listings in the coming days and we finally took our rest at our Airbnb in Provo that night.

The following day we talked about what we’d seen and bookmarked a few more listings, but when it came down to it, none of us could stop thinking about the Fayette house, nothing else we had seen or were considering from the listings even came close in comparison. As the week went on we enjoyed all of Provo’s beautiful surroundings, did lots of outdoor things, and kept talking about the house as we walked, as we made meals, as we relaxed. By day three of our visit we decided we didn’t need to look anymore, we just wanted to put in an offer on the Fayette house. After a little back and fourth we signed a counteroffer and went under contract!

After having an inspection burst our bubble on the last old house, we were sort of holding our collective breath. This house was considerably older (built in 1908), and although extensively improved, you just never know until you start looking past the cosmetic work. We scheduled our inspection for the following week, and in the meantime asked if we could take another look at the house overall with fresh eyes and better perspective after spending our week in Provo. Good feelings all around this time, we met a neighbor, saw lots of kids doing kid things, visited the Gunnison store – the closest town with amenities, and fell in love with the house and property all over again. We headed back to Colorado the following day, tired from all the miles but so excited about the prospects of building our future in this tiny place.

Happy to report that the inspection passed muster! Zach returned to Colorado for the long Memorial Day weekend and we celebrated how all has been moving along smoothly. We have a closing date of 6/17!

Our future home, and perhaps another business on our horizon with that cutie storefront #serialentreprenuer

I’ve been overthinking how to exit Colorado this time. There are a lot of logistics to consider having our lives spread out across three states (the bus is still parked in storage in New Mexico), I keep joking that just for today that’s not for me to figure out. We’ve started telling family and friends how we’d love to get together. However, Covid had different plans / timelines. Last Thursday Natalie woke up feeling crummy, this after Zach saying on Tuesday he had felt almost hungover all day (at the time we attributed it to the long drive back on Monday). I tested Natalie and told Zach he’d need to test as well after getting her positive. Sure enough, he had it too and he thinks he brought it to us over the long weekend. Camden registered positive today but felt the worst yesterday. So far I’ve had no symptoms aside from paranoia that I’m getting it. We’re masking while we’re indoors and I’m keeping my distance from the kids aside from being the bringer of food and drinks.

So all this to say, we are moving to Utah! We’re hoping with the timing of our quarantine that we’ll still have about a week to say our goodbyes to friends. Reach out if you’d like to get on the schedule. We can’t wait to move to our little homestead, so much so that even Covid can’t get our hopes down.

Enjoy some more house pics!

If it’s not a “hell yes!”, it’s a (hell) no. And other clarifying truths.

I had a job interview a few weeks back. Actually two interviews in quick succession. And I got all jazzed up about the possibility of working somewhere that sought me out and in an industry I know and have a lot of experience with.

Good thing they got busy and let me think for a few days before getting back in touch,

because this is my default mode of operation ———> Get my hopes way up, imagine the possibilities and jump to exciting conclusions. Except for that nagging feeling in my gut that was screaming, “Don’t do it, this isn’t the right thing for you!”

Only when I got really quiet with myself and weighed the offer with my current reality and where we want to be in the coming year did I realize that no, in fact I don’t want a job that will require 50-70 hours of my time per week, salary doesn’t even matter at that point. I was terrified to share this with Zach and my family and close friends, yet once I did nobody judged me or thought any different of me. (And even if they did, that’s their problem, not mine.)

Doing the mental gymnastics was not required, yet the exercise revealed our next right step. If the priority for our family is to find the rooted place we’ve been desperately searching for for a whole year, than why put that off any longer with two lives in two cities where none of us wants to be long term.

So next right steps are being taken, but not before that pause and reflection. More soon…