Karla's Cottage

How are you? Seriously, how are you doing?

This pandemic seems to never stop.

Daily, I hear that multiple people I care about have gotten ill, or can’t get a test, or were exposed.  Not just a few people here and there, but

every

single

day.

The never ending contagion is always lurking in the back of my mind, a constant, “what’s next?”

It isn’t so much waiting for the next shoe to drop, it feels more like waiting for the next elephant to drop.

There is just a lot of sadness and worry rumbling and grumbling around in the backgrounds of our lives that sometimes we don’t even notice, it’s just a part of things.  

But it’s there.  Like having bad elevator music as the new soundtrack of your daily activities, you try not to listen, but then you find yourself humming some abhorrent song that you can’t shake.

Stir in a little inflation, a pinch of supply chain struggles, a big dollop of potential school closings, flavored with the hard to swallow taste of politics and  there you have it- underlying trauma brewing and simmering in your brain.

Then, the regular ups and downs we all face are added over those underlying, relentless worries.  No wonder you read about people snapping, they are stretched too tightly!

I'm so lucky to have a wonderful network of friends and family who support each other, and are there to talk to. But when so many of them have sad news to share, sometimes it just feels hopelessly sad all over.

I consider myself an even keeled person.  Someone who rolls with situations, does what they can to improve what can be improved and deals with what can’t.  And I vent, things don’t stay bottled up.  If you know me, you know every thing that has recently delighted or disappointed me because I am sharing it all.

But the other day, my spring was sprung.

Something that should not have turned into such a huge moment did, and I was so angry that my heart was racing, my head felt as if it might explode.  I talked myself down, made plans that could take care of the issue if it arose again, then decided I would craft some jewelry to give away, taking my thoughts off of myself and onto creating and thinking of others.

As the day went on, my shakiness and headache became worse not better, and I thought I should take my blood pressure (which is usually maintained at a nice, low rate).  It was high, but not sky high.  So I took Advil and a needed nap.  When I woke up, I felt worse and the BP was now at that sky high point.

After a few hours at the ER, it came back down, no damage done. The nurse and doctor I saw, were stretched to their limits but compassionate.  I felt silly taking up their time during a pandemic, but they told me not to feel that way, that stress can cause physical problems and that when it affects you that strongly you are in the stroke/heart attack danger zone.

So, take care of yourselves, don’t ignore the stress that eats at you, it can gobble you up if you let it.

 I thought I had a handle on things, but did I?  Do you?

 

A year of fairies, family, flowers, and furry friends

Last year might have ended in worry and cancellations but it began in hope.  And ours started on the wings of fairies, which was pretty special.

We were blessed to be with our fairy family for Christmas and New Year’s Eve 2021. After what 2020 had put us all through, we were ready to face a brighter future.

Rich and I volunteered at vaccine clinics, where I was the coldest I have ever been in my life.  On a day of 14 degrees, I worked outside for six hours, something my family still can’t quite believe that a person as terrified of being chilly like I am, could do.

Volunteering at this event not only showed me that I was tougher than I thought, it brought hope to me that our lives could be somewhat normal again.

We headed south for a few weeks to the beach where I got to make lots of fairies to give thanks for the blessings in my life.

We took four dogs with us in a 19’ camper, which isn’t as bad as it sounds.  They are every bit as much underfoot in our home as they are in the trailer.  Two doodles, a retriever and a Yorkie  provide many tripping opportunities, no matter how small the kitchen I am cooking in is.

And what is better than being somewhere warm and blooming, away from a cold, Kansas winter?

Coming home is always hard for me.  While I am away, it’s easier to not expect to see Ryan.  He rarely traveled with us.

Returning to an empty house without his happy grin of welcome is rough to get used to.

These furry bundles of love came along in the spring.  They fill my heart up, in a bittersweet way.

I can almost feel Ryan by my side laughing at their silliness like he used to do.  He loved the puppies as much as I do.  Having them around was a help in getting through the anniversary of his death.

For two months, I did nothing but care for the babies.  When they slept, I’d do paintings of them, and talk to prospective families. I got very little sleep and picked up mountains of poo.

But I also had weeks of furry snuggles and joy. 


The babies helped me through the loss of two of our Yorkies. The pups were right there with me when Twinkle had her stroke.  As I held her in my arms during convulsions, those little dogs watched with compassion and care.  I could tell they would grow up to be loving pets when I saw how they wanted to comfort Twinkle and I.

The very next week, we lost our boy, Albie.   I don’t know what I’d have done without armloads of furry, warm puppies to get me through it.

There is so much joy in these little bodies, that you just have to smile even while in pain!

We took another camping getaway to the mountains of North Carolina.


Where I crafted riverbank fairies of rocks instead of seashells in the sand. 

 This is the year that Sugarwings grew up and became a teen, not a child.

And our Hippy Chic got her Master’s to become a midwife.

Painting flowers and landscapes got me back into the studio.  I still haven’t added to my Boutique or planned a Birdsong event, but both have been on my mind.  I’d started feeling out the prospect of an arty weekend, and then, BOOM, along came Delta.

So, I’ll be sticking to my solitary studio time for now.  It would devastate me to host a Birdsong and have anyone become ill while visiting.

On a second trip to Florida, I got to watch countless dolphins, see sharks up close, and find amazing piles of shells on a teensy island.

There was a lot to be thankful to nature for. 

It was also kinda nice to have the dogs cared for by family while we stayed in hotels instead of a camper.

I even got to visit Tinker Bell!

After a spectacular Disney adventure, I headed to Indian Shores to be with sisters and nieces.  It was a beach I was unfamiliar with, and was surprised by the lack of larger shells.  So, I used itty bitty shells to leave a mosaic fairy on the shore.

This might just be a new favorite art form for me.  Painting with seashells!

Thanksgiving brought us a visit from Dewdrop and a great family weekend to be plenty thankful for.

Stories of the proliferation of Omicron made me value every moment of holiday celebrations we had.

And to remember to appreciate those around me and what is important.

I am wishing you a safe and happy 2022.  With this horrid curse of a virus fading away.

 

 

A little bit of paint makes for big changes

Well, I forgot to get a before photo, but I’m sure you can picture this dresser in brown.  Add a scuffed up top to complete the picture and you’ve got it.

Nice lines, solid, and well made, but past its prime.

After using Goo Gone to clean off some mess left behind by stickers, I started with a coat of Michaels’ brand of chalk paint in gray. It dried streaky (one coat is never enough, is it?)

Next, I put white and gray chalk paints together on a plate and dipped a brush in both at once, then started pouncing it on.  When dry, I lightly sanded here and there for mild distressing, and topped coated it with Polycrylic satin.

While my paints were out, I covered the old wooden box in the gray, and the hand towel holder in white, and finished both off with the Polycrylic too.

With these pieces, I actually remembered the befores!

This shot is way before, back before I broke off one arm.  Dang it.  The old metal it is made of, was too pliable.  I hope the other arm lasts, this is being used as a mask holder by the door.  I feel like hanging up my mask to air it out is better than laying it down.

Well I guess this is a sorta before shot.  I caught myself as I started to paint it.  This is a perfect little cabinet to keep by the door, the deep drawer holds things that I don’t want cluttering up the top of the dresser.

The two, small containers of paint went a long way, neither is empty.  I’m typically not a fan of chalk paint, but it can go quickly for a project since there is no need for a primer and it dries so fast you can rapidly start on your second coat.  And if you don’t mess with wax, using a clear coat instead, it is a pretty easy way to go.

And talk about drawers!  Wow, this new (old) dresser holds so much, I still have an empty drawer to fill up yet.  So far I am using two for dog supplies, leashes, etc, one for clean masks, one for garden gloves, mittens, and winter hats.  

Oh, that’s right, I still have TWO to fill.

Yea, I know it isn’t meant to be a kitchen piece, it should be in a bedroom. But it works in this spot so well, that didn’t matter to me.  It is exactly what I needed for right here.

 

Catabwa Falls, Asheville

We took both dogs up the trail to Catawba Falls to see the waterfall.

Along the way, my son watched for edible treats the woods had to offer.

While my eyes scan for heart shaped rocks or stones to craft a riverbank fairy, he is on the lookout for mushrooms and berries.

While he found very few on this walk, he marks the spots where they were to check back later.

Molly was a perfect trail dog.  Dorothy needed a lift for a great deal of the way.

Although she did enjoy the trip, even if her tiny legs needed a break.  I am going to get a sling/carrier for her for future trips.  Since her littermate and mama died, she can’t be left behind, the poor girl needs to have us around.

I see more hiking in her future.

 While we found the scenery scrumptious, we were far from the only viewers.  This place was packed as you got up toward the higher spots.  The trails that led upward weren’t bad, but once you hit the start of the falls, it gets crowded as everyone stops to enjoy them.

Because of the Covid upticks, we wanted to avoid being in a mass of humanity, so we settled into a little rocky pool, not too high up where we had a private place to enjoy the river and still see the falls up in the distance.

I applaud people for wanting to be in outdoor locations now, but man.  That was a lot of them!  Still, we had many peaceful moments.  You can skirt crowds if you make an effort.

And if there are going to be multitudes of hikers passing by, I probably should consider wearing makeup. Oh well.

Downtown Asheville is equally busy, but we managed a scenic hike through it while keeping mostly distant, and masking.

It’s been years since I had time to check out the area, and it’s not just vibrant and bust, it’s funky and fun too.

My favorite building?

My son did the carpentry trim on this one, of course it gets my vote!

He also made rock fairies with me while we relaxed at the falls.  What a sweet son.

 

It’s Just Some stuff

Having the puppies leave for their new families is rewarding.

Having the puppies leave for their new families is rewarding.

No matter how many times I tell myself this, it doesn’t make it any easier, I miss my puppies!  A few days after they went off on their new paths, we had family come to visit.  That was a welcome distraction.

Especially when they brought their own cute doggies along.

And of course, I still have this pup.

Who looks all grown up with her new haircut.

  We have had one problem after another.  So many that they are blending into one another, to form one big blob of problematic messiness.  But none too big, just an ongoing onslaught.

I tripped and cracked a rib, one puppy got sick, another got slightly injured, but all are okay.  I had a three year old washer break, replaced it with a brand new one that didn’t work, was lucky enough to get that one replaced and the newest one floods my laundry room.  I wasn’t shopping for the best deal, or certain options on the machines, I was just taking what the store could get and was glad to get one. But man, none of them were working? 

Of course during the pandemic, we are used to shortages and I figure that if my biggest issue is having trouble replacing appliances (I am looking at you, 8 month back order on a dishwasher), I am doing okay.

Our hot tub died on us last year, and one turned up to buy last week.  It was not the one we wanted, but it was the one we could get.  It worked and we were glad to get it.
 I started to climb in the other day for a relaxing soak on my achey rib after pulling weeds in the garden, had my shirt half off when I looked up to see a workman in the tower.

He had a bird’s eye view of a grandma starting to strip.  Poor guy. 

Our hot tub area is typically private, but a couple times a year, some brave soul climbs the tower to work on it.  I am not complaining about that either, that tower has been lucrative to us.

Our desk top Mac needed replaced, I was able to get one, not the one I wanted, but one I needed.  iPads were in stock, Rich could replace his along with his broken Rigid drill (whose ID number was blurred and the warranty wasn’t honored). We needed a new microwave, tires for my car, three new outdoor and two indoor faucets replaced.  Our camper has developed a weird electrical thing and hundreds of dollars later, is still not right.  There are more little broken issues, big issues, sad things, annoying things, but I am trying to look at it from the point of view that somehow it works out and we are lucky to afford the repairs, replacements, and to find something in stock somehow to get that done, even with shortages.

Then, our 7 month old truck broke down in Southern Missouri while Rich was camping.  The pandemic shortages became hard to ignore when we discovered it could be up to six months to get the part to fix it.  And I spent hours on the phone with rental companies trying to find a way to get a truck to the Ozarks to pick up Rich, Honey, and the RV.

Our local dealership came through and loaned us this shiny, blue savior and I drove 6-1/2 hours to fetch them and scoop them up to bring home. 

So far, the GM dealer is treating us very well and we hope to get this solved in a way that we don’t miss the rest of boating and camping season by not having a truck for months.

Except for a sick puppy, who is better, and a sore rib which is getting better, it’s all just stuff right? (Expensive stuff, but just stuff)  I know that and have been rolling with it as good as I can.

Believe me, I know that I am speaking from privilege and that my life is good, these are minor things.  I’m quick to thank and commiserate with the salesmen, clerks, repairmen, and parts people who are dealing with the brunt of not being able to get the things that are needed.  My problems are small.

After losing a son, losing a truck doesn’t seem like much.

But, a series of stresses does add up and I felt pretty dang sorry for myself yesterday.  My rib hurt, I’d been in the truck for 13 hours, and I just didn’t want to think about the deeper reasons that there were so many empty shelves and so few choices when shopping. Driving through parts of Missouri where the virus is spreading like wildfire and hospitals are over filled, and seeing that no one is wearing masks was the final straw.  

While I work on being grateful for what I have, it is painful to know that the virus is still spreading and the healing our world needs has slowed down and instead things are getting worse again, not better.

 

 

 

 

Pretty stones

When Twinkle passed, I brought her home from the vet’s office to show her to the other dogs.  I knew they would look for her if I didn’t.  You might think it’s odd, but we showed Ryan’s body to our pets too. They were overly excited about a room filled with paramedics and other professionals during a pandemic when they hadn’t been around many people, so it wasn’t exactly a moving moment. 

But at least they knew why Uncle Ryan wasn’t around for ear scratches and walks any more.

It would’ve been easier to have Twinkle cremated, my husband was out of town and it was 100 degrees that day.  But I hated to think of the other dogs always looking for her and not knowing where she was.

I buried her next to Ryan’s memorial tree.  

A dear friend and her daughter had engraved and painted rocks for me and I’d been planning on placing them by this oak.  I am glad I hadn’t done it yet, they were just what I needed to top Twinkle’s grave.

I used some of the rocks in planters too.  

Ryan is never out of my thoughts, but I still like to have little trinkets and mementos of him around me.

 

 

 

 

The importance of finding time to create and just enjoy yourself

Sugar’s puppies have been so easy to are for, that apart from keeping Shuggie fed and getting some cuddle time with the babies, I have been pretty much free.  

They don’t keep me up at night, she keeps them perfectly cared for.

There has even been time to get the baby books done and completely updated. One litter at a time, is certainly the way to go!  I was frazzled and exhausted last fall with two at once.

Plus, Honey tends to lay on or step on her babies and I was constantly responding to terrified squeaks from puppies in danger.  Sugar is very gentle and these little sweeties have been a pure joy to have around.

In addition to the last round of pups needing more care, it was in the middle of a major puppy shortage and I was getting dozens of applications for a baby every day.  I was overwhelmed and not ready for such a huge response.

That made me decide to slow things down with these guys.  I haven’t actively marketed them yet.  I wanted a week of enjoying them as newborns and learning to tell them apart from each other before FaceTiming so many people a day, it is nice just to be with them, not try to sell them.  

It has been an ideal interlude, a time to relax and just be happy to have these new, little lives to love.

 
And I have had time to host some paint pour parties.  The paintings above are all done by the participants.

This is one of mine.

So is this one.  Acrylic pouring is such a relaxing craft.  

Typically, when I paint, I get too detailed, like in the rose behind these landscapes.  I decided to try pours to loosen up and get more abstract.  It’s not only been good for my style, it has been good for my soul.

 Following the paint as it swirls and glides around the canvas can be rewarding and zen like.

Watching family and friends create is every bit as refreshing as doing it myself.  I love sharing the technique and watching their colors slide around to form arty creations.  Fin and I did this one together.

My friend, Shanna did these two.

Friends are coming by today to see the pups and have a craft date.  Soon the puppies will become more demanding, I’ll be training and caring for them more each day.   I’ll be finding their new homes, interviewing families too.  And I love doing that.

But this last week, when they are all still just mine, not anyone else’s? It has been just what I needed.  And thank you to everyone who came for a craft day or to paint with me in the last couple of weeks, I sure have enjoyed it.

Appreciating Something Normal

We had company!  Our friends are now vaccinated and we celebrated together with a pitch in BUFFET style meal!

No more fixing an individual plate for each person, we actually all stood NEAR each other, WITHOUT masks, INDOORS, and fixed our plates.

Then, why does my dining room look so empty?  Well, for one thing, we were so busy catching up, then pour painting that I didn’t remember to take photos of the group.  

Another reason is that, I was excited to have a reason to clean my house and took pictures before people came over.

During the first half of quarentine, I found myself organizing and cleaning a lot.  My drawers and closets were impeccable.  

But after a while of no one coming inside, I kind of let things become sloppy around the edges.  It was very nice to have a reason to care about how things looked again.

Also, there are still reminders of the pandemic everywhere.  Such as having a new dishwasher on back order for  six months.  

But you know what?  That doesn’t phase me at all.  That might have been something that would piss me off pre-pandemic or at least be something to whine about.  But now? Small potatoes!  I had my friends coming over, and things like dishwasher delivery being delayed is not the sort of thing to upset me after what 2020 delivered to the world.

Instead of having a sit down dinner with a set table, we filled our paper plates and went outside to enjoy a beautiful, spring day.

My goal is to appreciate what I have, not complain about what I don’t.  We have all lost so much.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Honoring my grief

I have had a rough few weeks emotionally.  It started with thinking I’d lost a bag of Ryan’s ashes that I wanted to spread in Indiana while stopping there.  Luckily, I found them (put away safely, that is always a mistake, isn’t it?) Then on our visit to my hometown, no one there mentioned Ryan, so it didn’t feel right to bring up sprinkling ashes.  

We didn’t have a funeral for Ryan due to quarantine. At the time, I was too wrecked to care, and was almost glad that I didn’t have to deal with it.  But over the last year, I have begun to feel as if Ryan was cheated out of something he deserved.  He spent his life quietly in the background without many people knowing just what a great guy he was.  Was not having a ceremony another instance of Ryan fading into the background?  And is it too late now to have one?

Part of Rich’s family had a small ceremony at the Lake House last summer, and I treasure the wind chimes we made together as each person had something to say about Ry and clipped their piece of the chime together.  It was lovely, and so thoughtful of them.  I didn’t realize how much we had needed that at the time.

Thinking that I’d misplaced the ash made me remember every single bad mom incident throughout my boys’ childhood.

Then, I was overwhelmed by having a shivery cold snap hit us after three weeks of camping and needing to winterize the camper to prevent frozen pipes (while still traveling with it). We had to scramble to find alternate lodgings and between Easter weekend and spring break, plus traveling with three dogs, there just weren’t any to be found.

Seriously, it wasn’t a big problem, and it got solved, but I was irrationally upset about it, beyond the scope of the actual problem itself.   Since then, my attitude had been getting worse, and my sadness was building too.  

The anniversary of Ryan’s death looming over me has been almost more than I could handle and I let other stressors feed on that pain.

This might sound silly, but watching the season finale of the Walking Dead without him and knowing the series was ending soon, about wrecked me.  A new season of Top Chef starting, without RyGuy next to me to watch it was rough too.  The shows we watched together were important to us.  We’d pick apart details of the programs on our walks and talk about what we thought should happen next, who should be eaten by a zombie or pack their knives and go.

Thinking of the soon to be born litter of pups coming without Ryan by my side had been causing me torment instead of the joy I should have anticipating all those sweet babies due soon, too.  It was beginning to feel like everything was a reminder of how sad I was.

Everyone needs time to grieve and to acknowledge those raw emotions.  But letting them take over was not healthy, and I needed to get control of my world again. 

I will always miss my boy, nothing will change that.  Living with grief will be something I cannot change.  But dealing with grief and loss by appreciating what I have is something I can do.  Letting my raw nerves run my life certainly wasn’t helpful.  


So I took action.  

I had a sincere talk about issues that had come up with someone I cared about, who also had major worries of her own.  

I wrote a long, long letter to Ryan.  For months after he died, I filled his urn with notes and messages, but had gotten away from “talking” to him that way.  I gave myself a full day of just missing him, looking through the journal I’d made for him, (hugging it tightly against me and sobbing), watching shows he loved, writing to him and going for a walk like we used to together.  Instead of letting that underlying unhappiness brew inside me and make me antsy and sad, I let it rise to the top of my emotions and didn’t try to hide it or pretend I was fine.  

I painted.  And painted.  Pour paints are sooooo soothing.  Watching those colors glide and swirl is good for the soul.

I made plans with friends and family. I’m sharing a paint pour day with friends, having a craft day, and having a family dinner night with my fairy flock. 

Most of all, I honored Ryan by just missing him. And missing him a lot.  We both loved springtime, but he isn’t here to enjoy it, I’ll need to show my appreciation for the season enough for both of us.

 

My husband took a trip to Omaha to watch his nephew compete in jr college wrestling nationals, and I used that time to organize the studio and garage, gather supplies, mix up paints, and then dove deeply into swirling those colors around on a few canvases.

Acrylic paint pouring is an expensive hobby, but such a relaxing one.   I look forward to having a couple play dates with family and with friends.  It will be just as mesmerizing to watch them tilt and twirl the paint around.  I find the process healing.

Grief will never leave. But how I choose to have it in my life is up to me.

 

 

 

 

A little cabin in the woods

It has been a long, cold week here in Kansas, as it has been in a large part of the country.  We were only without power for a few hours, and our pipes froze up until we (meaning Rich) tucked a tarp around the bushes in front of where the pump goes into the basement. 

My heart goes out to the Texans who went through much worse.  

We built a big fire, piled our dogs and blankets on our laps and were just fine.  When we heard the weather forecast of bone chilling cold and about the possibility of rolling black outs to protect the grid, we did what we could to protect ourselves and pets.

I charged all of our devices and extra power packs, filled the bath tubs with water to use for flushing, and Rich brought some five gallon water bottles in from the garage. We had plans in place if things got worse, but never needed to start hanging tarps up in the hearth room or lighting candles in terra cotta pots for extra warmth.

Our dogs were very excited to see that the hens came to live in the basement for about a week or so during the coldest stretch.   And the cats were happy to be tucked into the hen house with all of the warmers and heated water out there, plus a cozy, insulated little box full of cushions to snuggle up in. While I was not quite as happy about chickens as house pets with hay tracked all over the kitchen from Rich’s boots and the dog’s feet, I was glad to know they were safe.

And that they didn’t really smell that bad.  Just a tad of a whiff now and then.  

But I did enjoy hearing their chatter and singing coming up through the vents.  

We did just fine, and I hope you are okay too?  Days like that can sure make you appreciate what you have, huh?  And remind me that I am blessed.

That we have a cute long cabin just for fun, and not as our actual shelter.  

Well, it is fun to have it now.  It was not an easy thing to build.  Maybe emotionally as much as physically for Rich.  

Chopping, hauling, and stacking the logs, coming up with the design and crafting the building throughout a long, hot summer was his way of working through the pain of losing our son.  I think a lot of tears mixed with the sweat of the hard work.

The project was mostly completed before winter came.  He still needs to gather fieldstone to enclose the chimney and is waiting for the logs to settle before chinking between them.  
The fireplace is functional, but not usable yet because of all the gaps between logs, the draft pulls too much smoke through the interior.

See what I mean about drafts?

For now, it is a little garage for our mower.  Later on, he will build a table from some wood leftover out of our grandfather tree (a special oak that he used to tell stories to the grandfairies beneath.  It fell over and was used to make our dining room table and dog crate) and add a hammock too.