home sweet home

Coming back from Dallas late last Friday was like getting to take off your pants and put on sweats after eating too much at a buffet.  I made my way back down 45, marathon-ing podcasts to make the miles pass faster, walked into my house around 10pm, and 'hhaaaaahhhh'... breathed the breath that only happens when you come home to your safe space.  The house looked so good to me - and we've been through so much with this place that those words, that sentiment, means a great deal.  My sweet husband had dinner ready... baked chicken, cheesy bacony crispy-smashed new potatoes, asparagus with a bit of butter.  The food was a drug... when I'm away recording for hours on end every day, I tend to feed on Luna bars, english muffins with honey, soup in a box (better than it sounds!), microwave popcorn, trail mix, the occasional string cheese and triscuit, and whatever else is easily transported from hotel room to studio to studio throughout the day.  So I stuffed myself with my husband's substantial food love offering, as well as a bowl of brownie and ice cream the dear man brought me.  And then we did what any newlywed couple who've been away from each other for four days would do... we laid intertwined on the sofa and hit the DVR to catch up on So You Think You Can Dance.  That Cat Deely is the best show host ever and Mary Murphy absolutely slays me.    

The next morning, while I was helping to throw a baby shower for a friend, my renter called to let me know that last week's storms had split one of the trees by the house, and limbs were hanging precariously.  A shot of anxiety up my spine... the pressure to diagnose the situation, find the solution, find a good tree-man offering a good deal, address everything asap like a good homeowner, etc.  Then I had a second thought - 'Call your husband.  Ask for help.'  Asking for help began as "Honey, I'm headed to the house after the shower - can you find me a couple of Tree Guys to call?" and ended as, "Yes, I would love it if you could go over there as soon as you can and check it out."  The next thing I knew, the issue was addressed, a reliable Tree Guy was called, and everything was copacetic by  lunchtime.  For a girl whose been single and independent for such a long time, who'd sooner walk a mile in flip flops than ask for or rely on others for a ride, having a husband like mine and learning to share my life with him is one of the best and most gratitude-inducing things that's ever happened to me.  Oh, and to smack the cherry on top of my gratitude, he went and made us the most decadent lunch ever... crunchy fish sticks with shells and cheese.  served in a fish plate (see awesome photo that begins this blog).  The third grader in me was in heaven and had to take a nap afterward. 

Other things I thought upon my return home:

My cat has never had it so good... hubby plays with her as if she's a kitten and, after living outside for so long - because I always had housemates that were allergic to cats - she happily basks in the attention.

My dog is happy.  He can be sensitive, and has been known to not eat when I leave town.  I used to hire housesitters to stay at my house and take care of him, but now that he always has a 'parent' around he just seems to be a happier and better adjusted animal.  I've had these babies for a looong time... my cat is over 13, my dog will BE 13 in September... and I'm grateful that my husband is such a good dad to them.  

In short, we're all a great deal better off since meeting this man.

***************************************

Snaps to me for baking both banana bread AND a strawberry blueberry cobbler yesterday afternoon.

***************************************

I'm incredibly thankful for my experience with 12 stepping.  I'm convinced that most, if not all people would benefit greatly from program precepts, and the people I know who're walking in recovery blow my mind with their wisdom, general happiness, stability, sanity, and serenity... some of the other attributes I appreciate most in meetings are the spoken honesty, humility of spirit, and the respect and acceptance that is shown people regardless of their situation.  In those rooms, there is freedom from judgement - not only feeling the acceptance of others in the room toward me, but being free to accept them in turn without inner comment or comparison.  Which is rare.  As one older woman likes to say..."No one in this room will ever want me to fail."  And it's that palpable spirit that keeps so many of us coming back - to put one foot in front of the other toward spiritual progress, to drink in the support and gratitude that comes from shared experience and struggle and total freedom to be who we are.  My therapist once said that AA is what the church should be, and I understand what she meant.  I was lucky - I had a therapist, a supportive church and immediate family, a job with plenty of money... I've become aware of situations of those battling addictions who have no hope, no faith, no self-respect, no desire, no concept of how to live without a drug or a drink... I cannot imagine how they will find recovery, but I pray that somehow God leads them toward freedom.  I am so grateful to God for His goodness to me.

***************************************

Bitterness is grody, and thinking negatively about people turns my insides into a nasty blender of thoughts and emotions that, frustratingly, a part of me really enjoys.  I can literally conjure drama and feed on it, get completely pissed off and use the pets as my audience to really tell off so-and-so... gross.  I feel the poison of it, and I know it intellectually, but it can be a hard emotional habit to break.  God, help me think the best when I can and when I can't... to detach, do the next right thing, and let people off the hook.  

now to walk the walk...