Why Change Jobs?

What has lead me here, and why do I want to change jobs? I’ve got a handful of reasons. Wages, pride, physical environment, work schedule, many reasons.  I will go over them all in my blog, and invite you to tag along as I make significant movements in a new direction.

I was never encouraged to go further in school.  Throughout my adult life I have been interested in it a few times, but the timing of life never supported it.  Now, I have a team of encouragement. I have raised my kids, and I have grown weary of the 3 minute drill that is spent with customers in a grocery check out line. Have you ever considered how much a grocery cashier lifts in a day? Let’s do the math.  If I serve 250 customers per shift, and each customer buys just 7 bags of groceries, and each bag weighs only 7 pounds.  250 x (7 x 7)=  250 x 49 (let’s make that 50 for variance and ease of math.)  Are you ready for it?  250 x 50= 12,500 pounds.  I move 12,500 POUNDS of groceries every day. Of course some customers buy less, but some customers buy a lot more.  Don’t forget to add in the cases of pop and water, or the bags of potatoes.  It all adds up fast, and so does the muscle and joint pain.  Repetitive strain injury is a real thing.

I have a few medical conditions that compromise my comfort level.  It is time for me to work with my brain, not my body.

I’ve been gifted with a good mind.  I’ve also been gifted with a kind forgiving and patient soul. I am not cut out for the cut throat driven markets out there. These things combined make a career path is tricky for me to navigate. But navigate it I will.

The process has begun.  I have been considering my direction. I have created the words that have become my mantra. I have stepped inside a Community Employment Resource Center asking for assistance. The first thing they asked me,  “Why Change Jobs?”

Wish me luck.  Join my journey.

Lets Get Growing

Have you ever dabbled in growing a garden?  Maybe you’re already well skilled at it. Every spring I dig in with enthusiasm. “Let’s get growing!” As much as I’ve intended to be a gardener, planting, weeding and starting a garden almost every spring for most of my life, I fail.  I lose interest and persistence.

I have the knowledge of a child when it comes to growing anything in the soil.  I do love to get my hands into the dirt. Planning the beds, planting the seeds, organic methods, all sorts of best intentions, but I fail.  Tomatoes and peppers look great in June, setting leaves, and blossoms, but they never produce any fruit.  I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, but a single green bell pepper the size of golf ball just doesn’t cut it.

I would love to be able to harvest and process from my own garden.  I will dehydrate, and freeze much of my harvest, but I need to learn more canning.  Is a pressure cooker necessary? Will I need a pressure cooker, or a water bath pot for this purpose?

Come along, bring your coffee, sit and chat with me while I garden.

We have some growing to do.  Let’s get growing!


The Change, Menopause.

Why don’t they tell us this stuff about menopause. What are your peri-menopause symptoms, and how are you coping with them? No Doctors seem to discuss this openly.  Truth be told, male doctors only have second hand accounts and book studies about it.  None have experienced it for themselves.  Some may have wives, sisters and mothers who’ve gone through it, but it’s not their own struggle.

I will openly share mine. Come join me.

I’m no professional, but I am very aware of the things that go on in my body. Although I wish I could stop it, just like you, I can only go through it, cope, and adapt. On the plus side, no more Aunt Flow.

I just turned 50 a few months ago. I have a friend who groans about how she felt so much older as soon as she turned 40. Well, mine finally caught up. It seems like my 49th year was THE turning point.

I was in denial.  The fact that I was having night sweats was a shock.  I knew nothing about it. I was only 44. I hadn’t begun any other symptoms yet.  I only had one flush per month of “what is this feeling like I just ate a pile of buffalo wings” One day a month, I had one single hot flash, and 2 days later I would get my period. I found out about the night sweats when I had spent the night at my dates house for the first time.  He told me about it in the morning.  I had slept so well, I had no idea.

Have you had night sweats?  What was you first sign that you might be beginning the change? At what age?

Feel free to comment below.  An open dialogue is how we are going to bring awareness and openness for the women coming up behind us.

An Empty Nest

It has barely been a year since my 23 year old daughter, Sister Bear, my middle child, moved out of the house. My eldest son, Brother Bear, has been out on his own for several years already as he is 29 now.  Life has been challenging for him.  He’s had relationships that were not healthy, a daughter in another province, and a little boy he held as his own for two years until that story changed. Then just last year, January, 2017, was the loss of a full term infant in delivery.   He is now in the healthiest relationship of his life.

But my daughter moving out came too fast.  After she had been away at university for 4 years, and home for a few months I was caught off guard by how fast everything changed.  She had been talking about it, but was thinking likely in May.  Luck would have it that she was able to find a place, in another town, 45 minutes away, for the beginning of February, 2017.  She was moving into a rooming house, and everything seemed like a perfect fit. This place had two other young people, and was only 4 doors away from a friend of the family.  As we were driving to see this potential new place, my daughter was having butterflies, and was undecided if it was giddiness or tears.  When we got there, she knew it was the place for her immediately. The room was already the same colour as her bedroom at home, a peacock teal colour.  Her artistic teal and purple decor would suit it beautifully.

So, this left me with my youngest son at home.  Being such a home body, and such a quiet peaceful soul, I figured he would be around until he was 30.  Well, he planned on moving with some friends to the big city, I was happy when those plans fell through. I didn’t want my baby moving from the small town into the big city that I am too nervous to drive in.  I went right back to believing he would be with me for a long while yet.  But as luck would have it, another friend had plans on moving out on his own as well.  This is a young man who spent many weekends here over the course of several teenage years. Just like another son, he would open the fridge randomly, and sleep on the sofa, eat my food, and mess up my house.  But I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I knew where these kids were. I knew they were safe. I knew they were all great friends and had their heads on straight.

But, then it happened.  Mid-August, 2017. I went to work in the morning, and came home to Baby Bear’s empty bedroom in the evening.  I knew it was coming.  I just didn’t know which day, or who had a truck to help out.  I didn’t have to help at all.  We had been shopping for the kitchen and bath essentials, but the rest was taken care of proudly by a young man striking out on his own.  I walked into his empty room, grabbed the broom and swept up the remnants of the teenage boy dust.  I didn’t cry.  Everyone thought I would.  I took a breath, and sighed, then cranked up the music and fixed myself a steak dinner for one.

As the weeks passed, I had a few moments where I wished he was still living at home.  When the lawn needed to be cut, and the garbage needed to go out.  But when my brother joked over the phone,  “I hear you’re suffering from “Empty Nest Syndrome”” I laughed out loud.  Heck, No!  I am not suffering at all.  I am rejoicing in it.

The boy still comes home every week or so for dinner, and to do his laundry. He is wonderful about mowing the lawn, or crawling into the crawl space for me to get things like Christmas decorations, or to put them away again.  So all is good.  I just truly and honestly believed this boy would be home for 10 more years, not leaving when he was barely 20.

I am very comfortable knowing I gave them roots and wings.  They know that home is wherever I am, and wherever there is love.  They are strong enough to test their own wings, and determined enough to use them, even if it means sometimes flapping them madly.  Wings to take them fluttering or soaring. Roots to keep them standing upright and grounded.

I done good.