Karla's Cottage

An Estate Sale in Ottawa, KS that opened some floodgates for me

My friend, Angie called me to say she had someone cancel on her and she could use a couple hours of help at an estate sale she was running.

(304 E 11th Street in Ottawa, half price on Saturday the 19th)

While there were plenty of vintagey goods, practical items, and tons of tools for sale, the star of the day was the house itself.

Throughout the day, I explored all of the excellently preserved details of this pristine old house.  It made me feel nostalgic for my mom’s house in Sioux City, IA.  Hers was from the same era and style, also had that great woodwork and arched entryway doors.

Mom’s home didn’t have the original potties, though.   This house had delicious tiling and the baths were updated but not gutted and redone.  The rose and black might have been my fave.

(Delicious might not be a good word to describe a bathroom, but, honestly, that color is pretty dang tasty!)

But, no maybe this room is my favorite color combo- the soft green with a hint of lilac?  How springy and delightful!

The woodwork throughout was magnificently crafted too.  And filled with French doors.  My mother took her French doors off and stored them in the basement for some odd reason.  Maybe so my crazy, wild boys wouldn’t ride a tricycle through them.

They weren’t the only kids raised in that place, it was also the childhood home of Ann Landers and Dear Abby.  I have a feeling the advice sisters weren’t as rambunctious as my kiddos, but then not many were.

Luckily, this was marked NFS, or it would’ve been in the back of my pickup, and I do not need it. 

I sure WANT it.

The basement was filled with the original workings of the old place, and that again brought back memories of Mom’s house on Nebraska Street. There was a laundry chute here just like the one my sons threw all of their toys down.

Visions of two year old Adam dropping trucks down onto four year old Ryan’s head in the basement were bittersweet.  And I laughed out loud with tears in my eyes as I recalled running down the hall and screaming, “Noooo!  The dog cannot go down the chute!” Just in time to save that poor little schnauzer.

It has been a rough week for me, I definitely needed this day out to work with Angie. The added bonus of spending the day in a home that brought so many forgotten times rushing back was good..

May is coming up, and it is filled with land mines for my heart.  My birthday and Mother’s Day were dates that Ryan never failed to make me feel treasured on.

Then the end of May brings the anniversary of his death.

It is still April, but the mere  thought of May has been wringing tears out of me while anticipating the calendar page about to turn.

And horrifically, some dear friends recently lost their son. I spent a week making a journal/album for him and feeling their pain with each drop of glue I used.

On top of that, I’ve had someone I trust turn on me and flip my view of our relationship up and twist it around.

Memories can be a blessing and a curse at the same time.  All I can do for now is roll with the emotions, enjoying the stories that play in my mind while missing my boy.

Bad things happen, sadness continues to occur, but I need to hang out to those good memories and think about those funny little boys with the giant pile of toys under the laundry chute in the basement.

Or I will never survive this.  Those memories need to be my lifeline.

 

 

 

Trying to be creative

The malaise of 2020 is spilling over into 2021 for me.  I have made efforts to be creative and busy, but haven’t had any project consume me, like they have in the past.

Lots of embroidery happened, because it’s kind of a mindless task, just to keep my hands busy in front of the TV.

I’ve had some studio time, but it is all a lot of simple projects, like doodling on this tag.

Or trying to make my own dog tags.  I have also painted a lot of things, repaired and reorganized. But most were “one of”.  Nothing prolific, as I have always been in the past.  Typically, if I make something, I can’t stop and next thing you know, there are twenty of them.

I made a scrapbook for Ryan, fairy wings with the grand fairies, and added a vinyl floor to the closet/laundry room.

That was a long delayed job, and has made the floor much warmer.

I even decided that I’d start grooming the dogs myself.

At least the little dogs.

So, I’ve kept busy.  I’ve gone for long walks, had socially distant visits with friends, and stayed active.  I think the unease and uncertainty in the world because of the virus, and the unimaginable loss of my son who was also one of my best friends has dampened my drive. 

We have a camper trip planned, and I hope to clear my mind and refresh my soul with some sea air.  When I get back, I’d like to work on reopening my shop.  It’s not exactly closed, but it is ignored right now. It would be good for me to revamp and restock for spring.

It has been important to me that I don’t lose myself to the sadness, that I keep crafting, creating, contributing.  And while nothing will ever be the same, I am slowly trying to rebuild my world. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A book for Ryan

When Ryan died, I looked on Facebook, my blog, old albums, anywhere I could to gather photos of him.

With a break to raise puppies, I have been working on a scrapbook for him since.

Some times, the pictures and memories would reduce me to a puddle of snot and tears so, I couldn’t work on it every day.

The goal was to have it done today, his birthday.  

He was a guy who loved his birthday!  He usually took a week off of work, just to relax.

Although, relaxing for Ryan meant going to the gym to work out and walking 20,000 steps a day.  

I will celebrate his birthday by going for a walk, and have been trying to get one in daily this week, like I would’ve if he’d been with me.  

On cold days, we’d go to the community rec center.  I was worried about using it now, but checked it out, and it is pretty empty.  The track is built as a loft over four basketball courts that are not open due to Covid.  It is a newer building and seems airy.  

On nice days, I walk on the sidewalks and trails we used to go on together.  But there has been a cold streak in Kansas, so I needed to use the track for his birthday week.  Which is tough, because it requires a mask.  That in itself is fine, but when I am thinking of how much I enjoyed running, walking and talking with my boy, I start to cry.

You can’t cry well in a mask.  

So, I listen to an audiobook and try not to sob and get my mask soggy, since I can’t take it off to blow my nose.

Ryan’s book is finished, I made it from the canvas of a pour painting that he hung in his apartment.

I wish he would’ve joined me in creating a painting of his own.  He did hang out with me as I swirled and played with paints, and he loved watching them come together.

The charm on this book was a pour paint necklace that he wore.

The book itself is a planner from Hobby Lobby.  I cut the painting off its frame and pieced a gold toned canvas together to cover the exterior.

The interior is covered in a red canvas he also had in his room.

Ryan’s life long friends gave me an entire folder filled with sketches and doodles he did over the decades while playing card games with them!

What a treasure!

Some I cut up to make a collage, others I used as backgrounds as is. And the rest I used as additions throughout the book.  I included some condolence cards too, this page is made of a card from his friends’ mom.

It’s too bad my hand writing isn’t nice, but it was still very important to me to add stories, so I didn’t let it bother me.

On this page, I listed some of his favorite tv shows, that we’d watch together.

And I added a few on my own doodles too.  

Now that it is done, I am wishing that I’d bought a bigger book to use.  This is stuffed tightly, and I would’ve liked to add printed pages from my blog about Ryan.  There is no space left in this book.  

I will keep this book by my favorite chair.

There is no recovery from a loss like this.

But there is comfort in reminiscing, and in memories.

Working on this album was healing for me.

 
And I’ll be glad to keep it nearby.

Collecting memories

For Christmas, I had some blown glass pendants and beads made from Ryan’s ashes.  They are done by a local artist, Vaughn. 


They are even prettier in person.  It is hard to get a good photo to show the luminous quality they have.

Vaughn had a holiday special with free beads added to the order.   I added some to this larimar, aquamarine, and adventurine stone necklace that I made.

(Oops, the silver bail is upside down in the pic).

This is a necklace that I’d already made and had dangled a bead from my father’s ashes on.  One of Ryan’s beads matched it, so I placed it next to my dad’s.

Ryan had a bead from my dad’s ashes and really appreciated it.   I had a rough time looking at my order when I picked it up, Ryan’s voice was in my head as I pictured how excited he would’ve been by how beautiful the pieces are.  He was always so enthusiastic and appreciative.  

I have a pendant to create a necklace with for myself.  The others went onto hemp or leather cords for Adam and Rich to wear, another hangs from Rich’s truck visor, and one hangs from the ash urn.  

When the puppies were born I took a break from working on Ryan’s scrapbook, then the holidays came along.  I think I need to get back into working on it.  It is a painful process, but in a good way.  I spend time reminiscing about each photo, and thinking about my boy.

Not that I don’t think about him all of the time, with or without reminders. I don’t need mementos to feel Ryan near me.  

But I am drawn to these items, the gifts that came after he died. The blooms I dried from flower arrangements sent to us.  The photos, the wind chimes, so many little things.  Sometimes they make me smile, other times, I still crumple with grief.  

Mostly, I am comforted by keeping these things around me.  

A Forever Gingerbread House

One of our favorite holiday traditions is making gingerbread houses.

This started way back, when Sugarwings was even younger than in this photo.  She would have a house that was a work in progress for a month or so, adding to it as a craft project for the whole holiday season.

We never ate any of the candy, and were adamant about calling the goodies “decorations” never candy.  We saved them up and used them year to year, those candy pieces that come with the packaged houses do not rot.  And I even wonder if they are edible anyway?

When Dewdrop came along, she joined in too with her own house. But learning about not eating the decorations was hard for her.  We were constantly hollering, “That is older than you are!”

In the last few years with the addition of new grand fairies joining the group, we have turned Ginger Bread Night into a family event and I started stocking up on clearance priced kits at the end of the year.    We still call out,

“Those decorations are older than Mayara!” 

Because some of those gumdrops are honestly from ten years ago. No one is seriously tempted to eat them we just enjoy saying it.

When Ryan finally switched to a job where he could be around in the evenings, I discovered that he had an obsession with holiday baking shows and the Gingerbread wars were his favorite.  We watched them together and would plan our own super structures. (They still turned out like badly done kits, which is what they were, but we loved dreaming that we could accomplish artistry.)

Sugarwings and I decided to build a gingerbread village from wooden birdhouses in honor of her uncle, who loved the creations so much.

I used some metal pieces painted white and buttons on mine.

The icing is puffy paint and glitter.

While mine is still not equal to the mastery of the shows Ryan and I watched together, I think that I do much better with paint than with royal icing.

And it had been awhile since I shared studio space with this kid.  She is now a teen who doesn’t appreciate being photographed while trying to concentrate, so don’t judge the grumpy face pictured here.  We had a great day together and look forward to making the rest of our village.

 

 

 

A year with few ornaments- A Pinecone Christmas

This year is different.  

Way, way different.

I just wasn’t sure how I wanted to handle Christmas and vacillated between nothing or all out. When I contemplated not having any decor, I felt deflated.  When I thought about facing the many giant tubs of Holiday Foof, I felt overwhelmed.

I knew that I needed brightness to cheer up the long stretch of oncoming cold and darkness.  So, I thought I’d plug in a few strands of lights and add garlands over my windows, get out some prelit trees, and a few other things near the tops of the tubs.  

Digging through decades of collected Christmas ornaments seemed to be asking for a crying jag. What could I come across that would break my heart? So, I decided that all I needed was some glitter and glow, not trees filled with handmade or lovingly collected vintage and family ornies.  

A silver tree that I pulled from the closet already had some decorations from last year stuck in its branches.  I left those and added a few glitter covered balls and other pieces that I typically considered “filler” not the main show.  Nothing sentimental, just sparkly.

Usually, I go ALL OUT, like my hero, Clark Griswald does with his million, tiny, twinkle lights.  I pack up every knick  knack and replace it with holiday glee.  This year, that was done on a minimal basis, I set up a few displays, but mostly just lights. And I was enjoying the process.  As my house got more twinkly, I felt more joyful myself.

Then, I found a bag of pinecones in the back of the storage closet behind the unused tubs of memories that I tried to protect myself from.  You never know when grief will strike you, and there is no amount of being careful that can avoid it.  

A year ago, on one of our trail walks, I saw the perfect pinecones to make gnomes out of.  We had Sugar with us, and were on a segment of our walk notorious for squirrels, so she was on full alert and ready to bolt at any time.  Ryan and I had our little jokes, and one of them was that certain stretches of our walks were “danger zones” where we had to be cautious with Sugar or we’d be surprised by her leaping after her prey and jerking the leash from our hands.  (I know, bad dog training on my part, not her fault).

 As we’d turn a corner and come across these spots, one of us would always say, “watch out, we are going into a danger zone”.  We thought it was an even funnier joke when we were walking poor, blind, old Twinkle who wouldn’t notice a squirrel if it sat on her head.

I wanted those pinecones, and we started grabbing them up as fast as we could and both stuffing them in our pockets, laughing hard, while joking that we had to hurry and get away from the danger zone.  It was silly, but it was fun.  That week, we gathered up a few more on other walks, laughing and filling our jacket pockets, rushing to get out of the squirrel infested area before Sugar took off.

Ryan and I had simple pleasures and repetitive conversations about little things.  There wasn’t a single time we walked by that area without commenting, and Ryan offering to grab a few more pinecones.  I said I had enough, we’d get more the next Christmas. 

I had no idea there would not be another Christmas for my son.

Finding that bag of pinecones about wrecked me.  After I recovered from sobbing over them, they made me smile.  And I started tucking them into branches of a couple trees.  I put Twinkle on her leash and we took a walk to that danger zone to fill a big bag with more, and brought those back to add to the holiday decor.  

When I see the simplicity of a pinecone in a sparkling tree, it reminds me of Ryan and what we shared.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another Memorial Tree for Ryan

When we lost Ryan, friends and family were generous in their out pouring of caring.  Lots of kind messages and keepsakes came our way.

So much thoughtfulness, that I decided I needed to be a better friend.  I saw examples of caring that touched me deeply and taught me how much reaching out to a person in pain helps them.

We were also given rose bushes and trees to plant which were meaningful, because Ryan had always been the guy who planted things for me.  We have those around the area where we hung the wind chimes that came in his honor too.

Recently, long time friends had a Sunset Maple with a memorial plaque planted for our boy at the Lawrence Arboretum.

(It is the first tree on the left when you enter)

Ryan and I spent hours walking the dogs on trails, but had never been to this park yet.  We typically strolled through trails and around ponds in the neighborhoods near us.  We had started to explore some other walkways around town and were making a list of places we wanted to drive to.  He would’ve liked the arboretum, and now that I’ve been there, it is a favorite of mine.

Tails from the Road Part Two

Was our cross country trip to pass out puppies only four nights? So many miles, so many places, so many happenings, all in just a few days? 

Days were long in the car, but between audio books, This American Life podcasts, and naps, it wasn’t bad.  We stopped every couple of hours for the pups to stretch their legs, and they all travelled well. They peed on command and mostly slept while driving.  

Each day we tried to get as far as we could towards our next meet up location and the puppy owners were kind enough to be flexible along with us.

Our hotel stops weren’t planned very far in advance, but we got lucky in finding ideal places with ground floor rooms. Although, I am afraid that I didn’t take advantage of that in the middle of the night.  Instead, I was so tired that I lazily sat pups on their peepads instead of leashing them for a walk at 3am.  

This resort in Tarrytown, NY was our favorite stop.  Ruby’s family lived in Manhattan, and obliged us by driving a half hour to meet outside of the city to get her.

She is a lucky pup who will live on Central Park.

The hotel was an old estate on a hill overlooking the Hudson transformed into a resort.  I would’ve loved to stay longer and explore, but we had a mission.  I felt a little like Santa, flying across country to bring joy.

We did get in to Tarrytown early enough for a delicious room service, Asian meal.  Restaurants were out due to not only Covid, but to having a passel of pups with us. 

Ruby’s family brought us fresh, NY bagels! We got up early to let the babies frolic on the expansive lawns and figured we’d eat a granola bar in the car after Ruby left.  These were a magnificent surprise!

And the world’s most delicious bagel.  So was the cream cheese.  It was so Rich, that it was almost an ivory tone.  Do they mix it with butter there?  

Delicious!

Driving across country during a pandemic can be eerie.  We were extra careful, but it was disconcerting to see so many people with no masks (mostly in Missouri and Indiana) unlike the area we live in.  I doubled up and wore a face shield too.

We listened to the news reports of the cases soaring, and swore to be even more careful than planned.  We couldn’t do typical tourist stuff, or explore much.  We wanted to get back home safely and quickly.

Our first stop in Indiana at my sister’s was much too fleeting, and our first night with the pups was stressful at the hotel.

But finding this mansion estate (under $200, including pet fees) turned our trip around.

We decided then, that we were going to try local foods as we drove cross country and upgrade our hotels along the way.  We spent more, but it made the trip feel like a get away, not a chore.

We had a car picnic at a really nice seafood restaurant in Mendon, MA after dropping off a Teddy. 
(In the two litters, we had three Teddies and one Freddy)

That lucky boy lives in a wonderful home by a lake now.

That night, we stayed in Buffalo at a Hyatt Place.  Not a mansion, but a perfect hotel for puppies.  There wasn’t as much for them to get into there, those rooms are streamlined.  Other places had dangling cords or other temptations.  I think Hyatt Place is ready for pets nationwide and most other chains just accommodate animals on an individual basis.  

We’ve always been fans of this brand anyway, it’s a well run, comfortable place to stay.  I wish we had chosen one on our first night on the road, but that was before we decided to not be on a tight budget and to enjoy the trip.

The puppies are supposed to be a business for me, but they are so much more than that.  So, why should I try to be frugal and make a profit on the drive to get them to their homes?  We figured it was much more pleasant to treat this adventure as a getaway, because there aren’t very many of those in this day and age.

After getting another Teddy (the poor boy whose previous family didn’t want him) to his Wisconsin family who met us in Chicago, we drove around to sight see and stopped at Portillo's, to get a Chicago style dinner to go. 

Local foods made our trip so much more interesting than typical drive thrus would have.  And the change of attitude did too.  

But the best part of the trip?  We came home with Molasses, “Molly”.  I kept thinking we should try to sell her too, and had many offers.  She came with us on the drive as kind of an interview process to see if we were keeping her.

While she was a perfect pup, and quite mellow, I was still iffy.

People asked us if we were keeping her, I answered maybe, Rich always answered yes.  I was still getting emails from interested buyers and just couldn’t commit.

Finally, he made me see that she was already family.  And now that we are home, tearing down the puppy corrals, packing up supplies, I am so glad that she is here.  It is the six month anniversary of Ryan’s death, and I don’t think I could handle losing all sixteen puppies on top of that.

This girl has sweet Angel wings on her chest, that make me think she was sent to me from Ryan to give me someone who loves hugs as much as he always did.

 

You know who else was glad we kept her?  These two mamas were overwhelmed with joy when we got back!

 

 

Dealing with grief in our own ways

My husband’s log cabin is progressing.

Joy Joy thinks he is building it for her.

But I think he is building it as a meditation, to help his grieving.  Much like me filling my arms with puppies.

Both of us are working nonstop on our projects, he drives the gator through the woods, measuring tree circumferences to find the perfect size to harvest and stack for his walls.
 
I tend to, clean up after, snuggle and train way too many puppies.

Each of us are fulfilled in our own ways, while exhausted and worn out at the end of the day.  Yet with a sense of accomplishment.

Grieving takes many forms, and we were both lucky enough to find something that helps ease the pain that never leaves, but can be soothed.

Although, there are also moments where our busywork backfires.  Ryan was always such a huge help with the past litters.  I get jabbed by memories of him laughing at silly puppies. Or slammed with overwhelming loneliness when I tuck the babies in at night and he isn’t by my side.

Ryan used to help us with projects outside, but I doubt if he’d have been into the cabin idea.  Still, he had a genuine curiosity and appreciation for whatever we were doing and would want to go for a walk around the yard after he got off work to see what we’d done that day.  

Plus, that man was STRONG, he worked out daily.

He’d have helped heft some of those larger logs if Rich asked him for help, even if he didn’t particularly want to be a log cabin builder.  I don’t know, maybe he would have liked the construction part.  He loved watching HGTV building and remodeling shows.  
 

 

 

Puppy time and me time

My husband took a little trip this week, and I had pretty laid time.  My watercolors are spread out in the dining room, so I can paint and be near the puppies.

They have kept me company while Rich was away.

Here is a snippet of the painting.  I always start with the eyes.  I’ll show the finished piece once the recipient gets to see it.

Besides painting, going for walks, playing with puppies, and battling an epic ant invasion, I’ve slowly started to work on getting the babies to intermingle.

It starts with a few play dates, then moves on to mixed cuddle puddles.

Although the play dates aren’t much more than naps yet, anyway.

The Sugarbabies have moved into the main part of our home along with the Butterballs.  Sugar is much more possessive of hers than  Honey is, so we are taking this slow, with supervised visitations.  If I am not with them, Shuggie and the little ones go back to the bathroom nest.

Eventually, they will all be too big (and stinky, and I have to admit, they are edging up on that stinky part pretty fast) to be kept in here.  
I have a nursery set up in the garage where they will be at night, then they will have the breezeway to hang out in on nice days with access to the yard.

Most of my time with Rich away on his trip, I had Sugarwings here with me.  But I had one day, all to myself for the first time in months.  I missed Rich, since his retirement, and especially since Covid, we have spent all of our days together.  

 

But since Ryan died, I kept thinking I needed a day to just think of him, to be on my own, to not have any “have to’s”. Life is hectic and as people always say- it goes on.

 

I have been grieving, I have been sad, I have had him on my mind every single minute. There has been a Ryan sized hole in my life, but I haven’t had time just to let that happen. I’ve kept going.

Yesterday, I had my months delayed day. I spent most of it doing things Ryan and I used to do together. I walked with the dogs, played with puppies, and then took more walks. I cleaned the stove top with a razor blade (that was one of his things, he took pride in a job well done, no matter how tedious, he worked with a good attitude and got things done.)

 

I made a frozen pizza the way Ryan used to make them for me, extra cheese, chopped veggies, black olives, rosemary, and turkey pepperoni. Then, I binge watched one of our favorite shows. I missed his laughs, and our constant conversation commenting on what was happening on the screen, but I enjoyed my day.

I enjoyed thinking about how much fun we used to have together. I thought about the joy he was always able to express about the little things that made him happy. Like a brand new season of a good Netflix show. Pizza night. A walk. A shiny stovetop. Laughing about something silly a dog just did.

 

Ryan faced difficulties in his life, surviving bullying over his disabilities that left him distrusting people’s intentions toward him. He overcame addictions. He had been taken advantage of. He had suffered in his life. All of this left him with insecurities. But he also found a quiet happiness and satisfaction in hard work and small pleasures. He was a person who appreciated the moment when good things happened.

 

My day “with Ryan” was appreciated.

 

It was worth waiting for.