"You did good, kid."

I find myself at a loss, which therefore finds me at the keyboard, like so often happens. Its seems I find solace in a few predictable things when I'm at my worst... Photography, the ocean, running, and writing. It's almost five below zero here in the Granite State, so running, and visiting the ocean are sort of out, unless I want to bundle up like a sherpa, and look like the kid from A Christmas Story. My mood tends to come out in whatever I capture in the lens when I have my camera in tow, and this grief I don't need to find in a photo, so that's out, too. I simply need to look in the mirror, or in the faces of my family, staring back at me across the table. It's there, so palpable it can be touched, in the tears the stream down cheeks, and heard in the quiet echo of life's extinguishing breath. So here I am, with Grief sharing the couch cushion next to me, settling in over the keyboard.

My grandmother. She's on my mind tonight. But not the shadow of the woman that I sat beside during her last days in the nursing home. No, that wasn't my Grammie Lee. No, I'm thinking of the woman I remember so vividly as a fixture in every stage of my 28 years of life. A strong, fine woman, who raised two sons, who gave her five grandchildren, and eight great-grandchildren. A spitfire, with a quick wit, a warm heart, a strong sense of humor, and a steady hand, who was always good in a crisis, and kind in a time of need. A woman who at times was my biggest critic, but was always my strongest advocate, and never was bashful to say what was on her mind. Tonight, my thoughts are with her.

And while I sit here, sipping a strong cup of peppermint tea, tripping and stumbling down memory lane, I'm smiling, despite my tears. I cry not for her, for that would be an injustice to a woman that faced each day fearlessly, and has so much earned this rest that is so much a blessing. No... I cry for us left behind, and the hole that will be left in our lives that will never quite be filled. 

My oldest memories of Grammie are priceless to me...  My third birthday, after she had returned from Florida, and gave me a Cabbage Patch Doll, and a Mickey Mouse purse, which started my love affair with handbags that I've never outgrown. A curvy woman with a short stature, 1970's era winged glasses, and sensible shoes, picking strawberries with a four-year-old version of me at MacKenzie's farm. A woman with a  big smile, with a glint of mischief in her eyes, as she'd hand my brother and I red markers, and the old Sears Christmas Catalog every Thanksgiving to circle our presents... the louder, or messier the better. The smell of pies in the oven, and flour in the air, as I stood on a stool so I could reach the table, as she stood behind me with her hands on mine, and we rolled out pie crusts for holiday meals. A blue Oldsmobile with velour seats, where she sat with me bawling in her lap the whole way to the hospital when I tore my Achilles Tendon when I was in preschool -- she sang to me the whole way. I remember popcorn made on the stove before movies, bedtime stories, and ice-cream filled crepes for breakfast. I remember getting angry at my mother, packing bags, and "running away," to Grammie's house... two houses down the road. I remember proud smiles from front row seats in every single choir concert, drama show, and SCAMP production I was ever in, complete with flowers and cheers. I remember chagrin over choosing a college so far away, and understanding when I was flat broke and needed grocery money. I remember worrisome conversations that would lead to amusement when I worked in prison, and heartache when I joined the army. I remember pride, relief, and tears when I came home from Afghanistan, and a fierce determination for me to get what I wanted when I went into Law Enforcement. And I remember a brave, beautiful soul who taught me the true meaning of grace as Cancer took her health, her independence, and eventually her life. But mostly, I remember love. 

Two weeks ago, I sat at her bedside in the nursing home. It was the beginning of the "bad days" being the norm. She asked me about work, "those boys" that I work with. She asked me to promise me I'd be safe. I told her I would do my best. She said, "That's all anyone can ask for." She was quiet for moment after that, and then gave me what was probably the most heartfelt monologue I've ever heard from her.

"You did good, kid. I fussed, and I worried, and had the choices been mine, I'd have made different ones. But you stood for what you wanted, and that I've always respected in a person. You loved when you should have, and had the wits to walk away when love wasn't enough. You saw the world, and had the sense to come home after, and through it all, you made time for a difficult old woman. You did good, kid. And I'm so proud." 

I was taken aback, and my eyes teared. "I love you, you know." 

She smiled. "Oh I know, dear." And her eyes closed, the conversation having used up her energy for the day. "I'm ready to be with your grandfather. It's been such a long time, and I can't wait." 

But she did wait, two more long weeks, during which she suffered more than she deserved. And as the days passed, she interacted less and less, as her strength gave way to cancer that consumed her. Her last words to me, though, four days before she passed away were that she loved me, after telling me that I needn't come to see her on my work days, because it was too much for me. I told her I remembered a woman that sat at my bedside day after day when I fought pneumonia in the hospital when I was nine, who read me bedtime stories, and would call after visiting hours were over, because she was worried I would be scared to be alone. "So I'll be here," I told her. And I was. The last few days, I doubt she knew it, because truthfully, I don't think she was still there. Her body lingered, but everything that was her was long gone. 

And so tonight, as James Taylor sings softly in the background, armed with tissues, and peppermint tea, I hurt. And so, while I'm not particularly religious, I will leave you with a prayer that hung in my grandmother's kitchen for years... may the sentiment carry me through this grief...

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can, 

And the wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;

Enjoying one moment at a time;

Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;

Taking as He did, this sinful world

As it is, not as I would have it;

Trusting that He will make all things right

If I surrender to His will;

That I may be reasonably happy in this life,

And supremely happy with Him

Forever in the next.

Amen.

-Reinhold Niebuhr

Annoyed about Anemia

So, I've been anemic on and off for most of my adult life. It started in college, when my body couldn't adjust to the terrible nutrition in dorm food. And its been a fixture in my life pretty much ever since.

Anemia, for those of you who don't know, is the human body's reaction to a lack of nutrients in the blood stream. A lot of women suffer from it periodically in their life, as red blood cells are the ones that carry nutrients, and we tend to loose a lot of those on regular monthly basis, compliments of Eve eating the damn apple. Anemia can be caused by a number of issues, ranging from simple genetics and a poor diet, to other underlying medical conditions. My particular case is the former (hence one of the many reasons for the Paleo switch), and there are several types of anemia, as its a general term for nutrient deficiency. My particular deficiency is iron, and vitamin B-12.  Causes of iron deficiency are frequent blood loss or donation (menstruation), nutrient-poor diet (such as my life before Paleo), endurance training (such as everything I've done in the last three years between the Army and Law Enforcement), and caffeinated beverages (such as the gallons of coffee I consume each week). Vitamin deficiency is caused by a variety of medical issues (none of which I have) and a poor diet.

So, the point of this? My diet before Paleo, clearly sucked.

And I'm exhausted.

Yeah, the number one side effect of anemia of all types is fatigue. Because without iron, your bone marrow can't make red blood cells. Without red blood cells, your blood stream can't carry oxygen. Without enough oxygen, your body systems become fatigued, and in extreme cases you can become confused and disoriented.

So, why am I annoyed? Well, while at the doctor's yesterday, my anemia was so bad, I was given an entire bag of blood. I felt better almost immediately after. Then today, on my day off, I worked a four hour detail, and I was so tired after, I came home and passed out for an hour and a half. I lost an hour and a half of my day to a nap, which would be wonderful, if I didn't have 10 million things to do.

And that's how anemia goes. You do minimal tasks, and then exhaustion hits you like a train wreck. And that's my day. Every day.

Today, it just annoyed me more than usual, so I needed to share.

Positive about Paleo

So... Paleo. Learning the ins and outs? A little overwhelming. The results? Totally worth it.

I had to go to the doctor today, for a variety of reasons, most of which are female-related (I won't get into the details, and spare my co-ed audience the discomfort). Of course, when you go to the doctor, two things happen, like clockwork. You get weighed, and they take your blood pressure. I was just at the doctor three weeks ago. Since that visit, I've lost 7 pounds, and lowered my blood pressure, which my doctor described as now "perfect." The only change in my life has been the transition to Paleo. So, I'm sticking to it. 

It rained all day today, so when I got home from the good doctor's this afternoon, I found ways to amuse myself inside. And what do I do to amuse myself inside on a rainy day? Well I cook and take foodie photos, of course!

I cooked a really fantastic soup today, and I am thrilled with the results. The endeavors to making it, however were rather amusing, and I wish I had time to photograph my smoking, flaming blender when it went up with a *poof.* Yes. My blender, which my mother had given me for my first apartment nearly 8 years ago, which was given to her as a wedding present in 1980 finally died. That blender lasted almost 34 years. And as I was pureeing my squash and sweet potatoes for my soup, it made a god-awful noise, and went up in quick puff of smoke. I had the foresight to grab the carafe and save the puree, before I pulled the plug out of the wall, and threw the blender in the sink. Then I laughed hysterically, like I'd lost my mind. I think with the stress I've been under lately with my grandmother being so ill, and me battling my own health issues, and work being a zoo, the blender being on fire was that pinnacle moment in the chaos, and I lost my mind to giggling hysteria for about five minutes. Then I put on some chapstick, fixed myself a coffee, and pulled myself together. There was work to do!

The recipe I followed for my delicious cooking endeavor of the day was one that had been shared to me on Facebook by a friend who has a person in their life on the Paleo diet. She said it was to die for. That was enough of a rave review for me to give it a whirl. The recipe is from Danielle Walker's blog, and really was the perfect evening meal for my rainy night in. I made Chicken with Roasted Vegetable Soup, and it was divine. While plugging along, I snapped photos along the way...

Here are a majority of the ingredients for my soup: butternut squash, sweet potatoes, carrots, onions, baby spinach, Rosemary, Thyme, and Oregano.... there was also boneless chicken breasts, and chicken stock, but there isn't much pretty about that, lol.

Here is the butternut squash, before I hollowed out the seeds and cut it into cubes to be roasted with the other veggies.

And here are the veggies, all cubed and seasoned, ready to go into the oven to be roasted... they smelled sooooo good! 

And here is my delicious, nutritious and colorful soup!

It was a really fantastic way to spend my afternoon, all things considered. Country music played while I cooked, and I sang along, sipping my coffee, and snapping photos. All my favorite things. Sometimes, that's really all you need.

Bon apetite!

New Year -- Old Beginnings

It seems that this year, in addition to being full of new beginnings and possibilities, is also providing moments to reflect and reconnect. Circling back to old beginnings, in a matter of speaking.

I spent several hours sharing wine with a dear old friend two nights ago. He called, said he was in town from Washington State, and did I want to get a drink? We had been the very best of friends, he and I. All through high school we were close, and even into some of my college years, after he had joined the Navy. He married another dear friend, whom I had actually introduced him to in high school. They were high school sweethearts, but unfortunately, their adult romance didn't end so sweetly. And in the mix of real life, and obligations, and being on opposite sides of the continent for much of the last decade (and opposite parts of the globe for a good deal of it as well), we lost touch. Life happened, as it so often does. So when he called, despite enjoying my night off, in my pajamas on my couch, I jumped at the chance to see one of my oldest, dearest friends.

The restaurant we planned to meet at ended up being closed. So, we went back to my house, kicked back on my couch, and talked, and shared some wine (never in my life would have pictured him to turn into a guy that drinks wine... love it!), and somehow, we picked up right where we left off, nearly a decade ago. And a decade is a lot to get caught up on... so we chatted, and laughed, and cringed together, as clearly a decade of tales covered the entire spectrum of human emotion. We talked about his ex. We talked about mine. Both stories lead us each to the conclusion that we're better off without them. We talked about family, and the craziness that so often surrounds it. We talked about his kids, and the fact that I have none. We covered such an array of topics, that I couldn't possibly touch on them all now. The hours ticked by, and before we knew it, it was 1:00 a.m. and down pouring outside. And he went home to his parents, with the agreement that a decade was too long, and we'd keep in touch. I believe it.

And, the day before I visited with Ryan, I got a message from another dear friend, who had been in the same social circle as Ryan, his ex, and I. And with a great deal of our other friends as well, I suppose. But, she and I haven't seen each other for the better part of three years, despite for the last year living only a half-hour apart. Again... that crazy thing called life. But, we made plans for dinner tomorrow, at The Governor's Inn, and I am so looking forward to finally meeting her two little boys, and hearing about where life has taken her.

Two dear friends... friendships that helped carve out the person I've become. Here's to new beginnings with those old friends... Old Beginnings, I'm thinking are sometimes more of what you need than new ones :)

Going Paleo

I know that with the New Year comes a barrage of do-gooders, with their Resolutions, and promises to be more, do more, and eat less in the coming year than they did in the one past. I used to be one of those people, but as the years have come and gone, I came to realize that the best I ever did at following a resolution lasted 3 months. Then I was back into the same habits, and the same routine, and by the next New Year's, was so disgusted with myself, that I'd try all over again. It is a vicious cycle, and I therefore, am a firm believer that New Year's Resolutions are inherently unhealthy, even if the goals in them are more optimistic.

So, as we merrily ate our way through the holidays, with fudge, and cookies, and pies, and savory meals, and quite frankly too much decadent food to list, I have noticed that I haven't been feeling particularly well, of late. My skin is gross, my hair limp and dull, and my energy levels are in the toilet. My anemia is appallingly bad, and because of it, I permanently look like I've been punched in the face, despite my attempts at getting more sleep, and taking time to relax. I know some of that is due to stress, and the fact that I don't have the time to exercise as much as I would prefer, which lately has been not at all.

So, I recently sought out some guidance from a nutritionist. My body type has always been a struggle. And while I've never been morbidly obese, I seem to permanently reside in the realm of being able to lose a few pounds or twenty. Years ago, when I wanted to go into the military, and was told I was too overweight, I sought a nutritionist, and lost 60 pounds. I learned a lot in my weekly meetings with him, however, much of what I learned doesn't really apply now, because my goals are so very different.

I don't want to lose 60 pounds. The diet my nutritionist put me on back then was extreme, and even he told me that it was unhealthy to be on for more than a few months at a time. And it was painfully calorie conscious. Something that working a regular job with regular hours I could handle, but I busted my ass planning meals, and fitting in basic nutrients into itty-bitty calorie windows. I lived on dietary supplements and 900 calories a day. That's 300 calories a meal. I lost weight. But I starved myself, and I was miserable.

Cancer abounds in my family, I'm learning. My grandmother has it pretty much throughout her entire body. My grandfather died of it, among other things. My cousin has been battling it for over year. Other major illness plague my family as well, to include diabetes, heart disease, glaucoma, diverticulitis, high blood pressure, and cholesterol problems. I look at the people I love, and how much they struggle and I worry. Will that be me? In 20 years will my worries include remembering to take a handful of pills twice a day to control my illnesses and be jailed by what I can and can't eat?

So, my thoughts of late have been about my life, and how I want to live it. I want to be happy above all, but I'm realizing how directly tied to my health that is.

So, at the risk of being labeled a "Resolutionist" I'm announcing a dramatic life change. I'm going Paleo.

What is that? You ask. Well, the Paleo Diet is also known as the caveman diet. It was founded on the principle that eons ago, when homeo sapiens were hunters and gatherers, they didn't suffer a lot of the health problems we have in modern society. Sure, the life span was shorter, but a great deal of that was because we were actually a part of the food chain, and got eaten by something, or we died from simple illnesses, like the common cold. It's corner stone is high-protein yielding meats, and fresh vegetables, and rounds itself out with fruits. No grains. No legumes, to include peanuts. But, you can find out more of the details of the diet, here.

With this diet in mind, I sought out a nutritionist I know from my time in the military. We discussed at length the pros and cons of certain diets, to include the South Beach Diet, that works so well for my mother, the Atkins Diet, that quite frankly is just terrifyingly unhealthy, and other programs like Weight Watchers, and Nutri-System. Our discussions based themselves around the science of food, not around the results of weight loss. We got that out of the way early on in our conversation, when I expressed my health concerns to him.

What he said was simple: "Carrie, health and wellness is about so much more than what you weigh. Its a total package. Anyone can lose weight. But not everyone knows how to be healthy." 

At the conclusion, we both agreed that the Paleo Diet was a good choice for me, for a variety of reasons, mostly the fact that it won't be a huge change from how I eat now. I already avoid grains, as I don't really eat bread. I think the only thing in that category that I will miss will be oatmeal. I will also miss dairy products. No milk, yogurt, ice cream, or coffee creamer. The lack of coffee creamer is going to be the big hurdle. However, the Paleo Diet allows for three non-paleo meals a week, and my nutritionist strongly encouraged me to consume dairy products in those meals, as calcium and other nutrients found in dairy are so crucial to the female body.

So, I'm going Paleo. However, I'm not going Paleo overnight. I'm being practical about it, and eating what I have in the house of non-Paleo products, and as I buy groceries, replacing those items with things that will fit the Paleo lifestyle. Where goal it to be healthy, not skinny, I don't have to shock my body into a change overnight. I just want to feel better. Anything else would be a bonus.

So... here's to my health. I'll keep you posted on the endeavors!

We Were Perfect

As I sit beneath the lights of my Christmas Tree, and my dishwasher swishes away the residue of a meal well-enjoyed, I am humbled, rare though it may be.

Christmas for my family this year was chaotic at best. My grandmother at 91 has taken to hospice care in a nursing home where she is rounding out her days after a long battle with Stage 4 Cancer. So between visits with her, and juggling work and a social life for me, and juggling our family and in-laws for my brother, we all seemed to be in different directions this Christmas. And because of that, the logistics seemed to outshine the magic. We somehow lost track of what the holiday season is really about.

Then, a few days before Christmas, when my mother was opining about how "screwed up" this holiday season had turned out to be, I decided I was hosting a holiday meal. And so, Family Dinner was born. At my house -- the wee one-story on the pond.

And tonight they came, as a leg of lamb roasted in my oven, and carrots steamed on the stove, bottle-tops and corks were popped, libations were poured, and everyone seemed to let go a little. My Christmas tree glittered in the evening light, strung up with fishing line, after having recently attempted suicide on my living room floor. My niece, busy at three-years-old, counted the ornaments, and played with her horse figurines on the floor beneath, as my dad told stories, and my sister-in-law and my mother griped about pregnancy, and wondered about the man my nephew will become, after he joins our family next month. And I sat back with my glass of wine and observed my colorful, chaotic family. Knowing that they're all the family I'll ever have makes me love them all the more, and as I carved the roast to "Ooohs" and "Ahhhs" over my culinary skills I was warm and happy, and somehow felt perfect despite my imperfections because I brought to them that piece of Christmas we somehow all missed this year: the just being together.

And now, with the house quiet, and everyone having gone home for the night, I am humbled. My issues are small compared to what this season is about. Who cares that I had to work the holiday? Who cares that I spent the day shoveling snow, and scouring my house? Who cares about who bought who the best present? None of us. Tonight, all we cared about was that the food was good, the drinks were plentiful, and the company was stellar. We were us. With our character, humor, honesty and humility, we were everything we've always been, and always will be. We were family. We were perfect.

And, the meal was pretty epic, too, if I do say so myself :)

So, a belated MERRY CHRISTMAS to all... I hope you found as much joy in your own families as I found in mine :)

Nearly a Year...

Nearly a year has passed.... wow. So much to fill you all in on, and no real idea where to start. So, truthfully, I'm not really going to try. The past is the past. And most of you know the highlights through other means, anyway. So... picking up where we left off....

Now having a place to call home that I don't have to share unless I want to, I'm finding my sanity again. Or, as much sanity as I ever had I suppose. I'm enjoying being settled in, and have jumped into my two loves, cooking, and photography with both feet. And tonight, this recipe graced my dinner table, and it was deliciously perfect for a cold snowy evening :) Curried Acorn Squash Soup

And photos... well, here's a taste of some of my recent favorites...

So... from here on out, I'll try to update more.... <3 p="">

I'm Not Hungry... I'm Bored!

Which is what I have been telling myself all day. It pretty much sucks.

As anyone who knows me can attest, I have struggled with my weight my entire life. I fight bad genes that predispose me to being overweight, a serious love affair with potatoes, and my own often distorted view of how I actually look. That being said, I currently am not overweight. My time in Afghanistan took off the few extra pounds I was carrying around, and I am mostly happy with what I see in the mirror these days. That, however, does NOT mean that I can't afford to lose a few pounds.

My mother suffers the same weight loss battle I do, only her love affair is with bread, not potatoes. That being said, a few years ago she went on the South Beach Diet, followed it to the letter, and lost over 40 pounds. Then last spring, she broke her ankle in several places in a nasty fall, and was confined to a wheelchair for several months. The sedentary lifestyle took its toll, and she put back on half the weight that she had lost. Mother like daughter... we look at a cookie and we gain five pounds, and if we can't exercise we gain ten.

So, together, we've gone back on the South Beach Diet. Since we're living under the same roof these days, dieting together makes meal planning easy. And, we can cheer each other on through the rough patches. I don't follow the diet as strictly as my mother does. I'm only looking to lose 10-15 pounds, and I'm too active to cut all the carbs out of my diet. I am pretty sure I would die. So, I'm on what I call South Beach Lite. I allow myself one meal with a minimal starch each day, and allow myself fruit (which normally wouldn't be allowed in Stage One of the SBD). But, otherwise, I am very food conscious, don't snack between meals, and am very careful of my portion size. I've cut my coffee consumption in half, and in its place doubled my water consumption. I pee all the time, and surprisingly, am hungry very rarely. So far so good.

Well, then today happened. I worked out hard at the gym yesterday, which was my fifth consecutive day at the gym, so today was a dedicated rest day. My sore muscles needed it, and I was thankful to not have to make the 40-minute drive to Planet Fitness. However, today was also snowing, so the roads were terrible. That meant I was also stuck inside, because the nasty roads I decided weren't worth smashing my dear truck up on to get some photos. So, I took care of some paperwork-type things, and made some phone calls, and otherwise dealt with domesticness. Then I sat down on the sofa after lunch, and settled in to watch Braveheart on TV. A half-hour in, the nagging desire for something sweet kicked in. It continued to nag, un-indulged, all the way until dinner time.

I wasn't hungry. I was bored. I don't do sedentary well. I guess that means that I don't know how to relax, but that's ok. I like my active lifestyle, and wouldn't trade it for anything... especially not if it means fighting my sweet tooth for hours on end.

Photography Pursuits

The day started yesterday with a heavy fog, a soft drizzle, and warmer-than-seasonable temperatures. I was groggy after what felt like too-short a night, so after making my first cup of morning coffee, I settled into the recliner, and turned on the local morning news. Reports abounded about the strange weather for January, and the Dense Fog Advisory. As the caffeine worked its magic in my system, the creative possibilities that kind of weather can bring to a girl like me began to break through. I then set to making my second cup of coffee, and a plan.

A half-hour later, I was out the door, camera in one hand, coffee in the other, and a smile on my face.

I headed north, taking the chance the the higher elevations would bring a more dense fog. I have some favorite spots that I've always wanted to photograph in misty/foggy conditions, and I was hopeful I would get that opportunity. Well, twenty miles outside of town, and I broke through the fog, crushing those hopes. So, I took a sip of coffee, and altered the plan.

Forty minutes later, I was turning onto Route 112 -- The Kancamagus Highway. This highway has always held a special place in my heart. I can remember driving it for the first time as a child, on a family outing to Lincoln, NH -- a quaint, mountainside town, with shops, outdoor-related activities, and a 20ft tall statue of Paul Bunyan. While driving along what the locals lovingly refer to as "The Kanc," I was enthralled with the twists, turns, and tumbles of the Swift River, which the highway follows for a large portion of the drive. Of the whole family stay, the drive became the most memorable part. Well, that and my torturous older brother's body-encompassing case of Poison Ivy. I was five, and his misery brought be a great deal of joy :)

In the years since, The Kanc has been where I've gone when I've needed to head for the hills. I've photographed it numerous times, but it seems I've never been able to do it without freezing my butt off. But yesterday it was nearly fifty degrees. Couldn't ask for a more fortuitous January thaw.

And I am deeply pleased with my pursuits... Below, one notable photo from the trip :)

The Rules

Carrie's Rules for Life

1.) There is no excuse for not meeting one's obligations. 

2.) Duty first, playtime later.

3.) Honest always, even when it's unflattering. 

4.) When time allows for you to look good, there is no excuse for looking bad.

5.) Always wear pretty undies, even if you're the only one that's going to see them.

6.) Always find a reason to smile, because to your allies it will be infectious, and to your enemies it will be intimidating.

7.) Just because you play with the boys, doesn't mean you have to look and smell like one. 

8.) Take care of your body like you would your car. Fuel it, maintain it, keep it clean, don't let other people scratch the paint, and always have some form of insurance.

9.) Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty, but never let yourself go without having pretty feet. 

10.) Treat your friends as well as you'd treat your family, and treat your family like they're angels on earth, because they are -- they put up with you and your antics.

Of late, I've done rather well at living by my Rules for Life. Which has been keeping me far to busy to update anything on here. That said, I am now realizing that #1 might be a little lacking. I'll work on it.

I have, as is evidenced by my post, survived my tour in Afghanistan. I was on ground for 11 months and 6 days, and I am very glad to be home. I don't regret a single day of my time served, but I'm not overly anxious to do it again any time soon. I made a great deal of friends, learned a lot about myself, my country, and what it really means to wear my nation's flag on my sleeve. Most importantly, I learned what was really important to me, and have since my return, been making huge strides to put those things first.

I have moved out of Pennsylvania -- in fact, I accomplished my last residency requirement today. Moving is an expensive venture, and while the administrative stuff is all done, the actual moving hasn't really happened yet. My entire material life is still in a 10ftx20ft storage bay, and won't be moved until I am gainfully employed, and not living with my parents.

Yes. At 27 years old, after having lived on my own for nearly a decade, I've moved back in with my Mom and Dad. It is an experience, to say the very least, and one that I won't elaborate on in detail just yet. I am thankful for a place to stay while I sort out the madness of this very huge career/location change, and we will leave it at that.

And yes, the career change... I had burned out of working in prison. While I learned a lot in Corrections, it's not where I belong. And after working in prison deployed, I was even less enthusiastic about working in prison as a civilian. So, I resigned. Settling for being comfortable should never substitute being happy.

So, I have moved home, and am in the application process for law enforcement, which is all I've ever wanted to do anyway. I ended up in Corrections due to a lack of options, and it served me well when I needed it. But now, it is time to move on. I will keep you updated on the endeavors...

Now, let me return to my Rules of Life. I referenced these, as I do periodically, as a bench-mark for myself and my own moral compass. So far, so good. I've been meeting my obligations to the Army, my friends and family, and have been better about meeting my own personal obligations, which I have notoriously put off for last. Every day, I take care of what needs to be before I goof off with the camera, or adventure off with the girls. I have been painfully honest, mostly because my bullshit tolerance is so very low these days. Because of that, I've also been saying "I'm sorry" a lot. I have been enjoying "looking good." It's amazing how much you'll appreciate your blue jeans, after a year in utilities. I have been smiling so much my face hurts at night. I am happy with the changes in my life, so 90% of the time, the smiles are genuine. The other 10% of the time, I find entertainment out of making people squirm. I have been playing with the boys a lot -- working on my truck, helping my dad on the farm, plowing and sanding the roadways my dad has winter weather contracts with. And I keep being told by strangers that I'm too pretty to be doing that kind of work. So, apparently Rule #7 is right on the mark! While I was a bit of a slacker over the holidays, I only gained six pounds, which I have been working feverishly since the New Year to take off. The good news is that I feel better for it. The bad new is, that it is still a work in progress. My hands have been dirty a lot, but I have had one professional pedicure since I got back in the States, and have given myself mini-pedicures twice. In fact, tonight I painted my toes a very nice royal purple. Pretty feet rock! And my friends... well, they pretty much are my family. And they try my patience sometimes near as much as my family does. But I exercise what little patience I have, and do my best to appreciate the fact that they  put up with me, and my quirks, and I can make an effort to do the same with them. Rule #10 for me is always a work in progress. 

But, I'm not failing miserably, and I can lay one small fear I had to rest. I can return to civilian life without any speakable hitch. So long as I maintain my rules, anyway... :)