The other day my daughter the fabulous Rachel Pie was here and as she is studying Chinese medicine and acupuncture she was working on me. The next day we were heading out and about and I pulled out a winter pair of shoes that are kind of a stone colored suede Earth shoes to wear. That evening I noticed that my arthritis in my knee was much better and whether to attribute that to my acupuncture treatment or to the wearing of the Earth shoes I did not know. Maybe both?
That got me to thinking maybe I need more Earth shoes in my closet, not just the suede winter ones. I used to have a fabulous pair of red Earth shoes that I wore constantly but one of my asshole dogs chewed on one and ruined them and out they went. So I looked online to see if Earth shoes has something nice, cute, and available. Which led me down some rabbit holes of 1970s footwear. Which I am about to share with you!
And now, let's take that walk down memory lane and see if you remember these beauties:
First up, the ever popular desert boot or Chuka boot as we called them. They STILL make these things!!
Then the tennis shoes that were also jogging shoes, basketball shoes, track shoes, pretty much anything athletic you did you did in these. Whether they were Converse or PF Flyers this was the shoe. I had red ones that I put purple laces in and I wore them to marching band practice for YEARS. I kept those shoes until just a few years ago. Loved those shoes.
And then came Candie's. Iconic shoe right there.
Jellies!!! I loved my jellies! Mine were root beer colored, not regular clear. Lord, I loved those shoes.
Now, I would have never been caught dead in this shoe. But my mother wore the hell out of these in many different colors. Grasshoppers.
And who remembers shopping at Thom McCann? Might have been one of the first mall stores I shopped at, along with Casual Corner and the 5 7 9 shop.
Check out these wooden platforms! You know you had a pair.
When I was in high school some of my best friends worked at Kinney Shoes together and we went in there all the time. Kinney Shoes. I wonder when that quit being a thing?
Yoyos!!!! Do you remember Yoyo shoes? I swear I had these shoes right there.
And here they are, the original Earth shoe. Most people considered these ugly. I looked at these and thought "OMG, there is a shoe shaped like my foot! It might feel good! It might not even pinch or hurt or be uncomfortable." I have been in love with the Earth shoes ever since.
Famolares!!!! Such a ridiculous concept that we all bought in to. Wavy shoe bottoms, what the hell were they thinking!
Here's a nice platform shoe. If you are a 1970s pimp, maybe.
And even more decorative platforms.
It was an interesting time in footwear, wasn't it? Makes me wonder which of today's choices will be laughed at in 20 or 30 years time.
This story would be better with some pictures of these mishaps. But when you are in the midst of things sometimes you are overwhelmed and stopping to take a picture of your own stupidity isn't first thing on your mind, you know?
I had the bright idea to make some weighted blankets rather than purchase them. That way they could be the exact fabrics that the kids wanted. Etc and all the other reasons why I have a craft room in the first place!
Then it was on to Pinterest to research how these things are made. You have to know how much weight is correct for the size/height/weight of the person using it. Then it was a matter of figuring out what to use for the weight; the plastic weighted things (like in Beanie Babies) or something else. Rice, flax seed and corn are good things because they are natural and can be heated or stuck in the freezer for cooling treatments, too. But those items are not washable. If they get damp they can mold inside the blanket and have to be thrown away.
Then I discovered cherry stones. They are also a natural product, they come from Michigan the land of cherries, and believe it or don't they can be washed and dried. Who knew?!
Cherry stones sounded like the perfect answer to the question. I was really intrigued to try this project. Anyhoo, we got the fabrics and I washed, dried and ironed them while waiting on the cherry stones to arrive. And I watched tutorials on how best to sew these up.
Basically, you sew the fabrics together on 3 sides with the right sides facing in. Then you trim it and turn it right side out. You will then decide how many little segments you want to have with the stones evenly divided throughout the blanket. Got it?
For the size I am doing for a 2 year old who weighs 30 pounds the weight of the blanket should be between 10 and 20% of total body weight. We were shooting for 4 pounds of total blanket weight. The size of the blanket evenly divided into 6 x 4 squares. Six segments down the long side crossed with 4 going across. I then took the blanket sewn on the 3 sides and marked it into the six and sewed there creating six channels. I took the cherry stones and divided the 4 lbs into 24 equal-ish bowls.
So far, so good, right? But I looked at the fabric and thought how flat the color was. And then it dawned on me that I had NOT FLIPPED THE FABRIC RIGHT SIDE OUT!!!!
Oh good Lord. So I got my seam ripper and carefully took out all the channels that I had just sewn in. And then I cleaned up all the bits of thread and flipped it correctly and remarked all the six channels again and sewed them in place.
I took the first 6 portions of the cherry stones and poured them in and pushed them down to the end and pinned across to sew them in place. This is working out! Yay!
I did the next row up and pinned and then sewed that row. Then on the third row I started having a little trouble because of the weight of the whole thing and the stones wanting to shift around. But I got the 3rd row done and as I lifted it and cut the thread from the machine I heard the sound of falling cherry stones. That was closely followed by the sound of my heart also falling into my stomach.
That whole 3rd row was not closed because I had run out of bobbin thread. Son of a BITCH!
So I got down on the floor gathered up all the cherry stones and divided them up again and set all of this on my work table. And I got my bobbin out and refilled it and got my machine ready to rock and roll and turned everything off and left the room.
You can only make so many mistakes before you realize it is time to take a break and come back to this project tomorrow.
I have had so many different things swirling in my head that I thought I would get some of them down in black and white. Here goes!
1. My son has a lovely girlfriend who has 2 little boys, so they are like my almost-grandchildren. I went and picked up the 5 year old and spent the weekend with him. He had finished kindergarten on Friday and had his very first graduation. We played Legos, colored, drew pictures, read books, swam, counted fireflies, and made homemade ice cream.
It was a pretty perfect weekend, actually.
2. This whole debate in social media about the child who climbed into a gorilla enclosure at the Cincinnati Zoo and the gorilla was shot and killed is horrific. Everyone is vilifying the mother of the child. From the accounts I have read BOTH parents were there, why are we blaming just one? I don't like the blaming and judging that goes on from women on other women and their parenting. We are all guilty of it. My first thought was "why did the mom allow her child out of her sight?" I took a step back and can see all sorts of judgment and blaming in my own mind. It's a fucking tragedy with enough responsibility to be spread around. Let's hope all the parents who know of this will now educate their children on how to act appropriately in a zoo setting, and that the zoo officials will find more ways to keep the animals safe from this happening again.
3. While thinking about this zoo/gorilla/parenting debacle I have been going over and over in my mind how would I have acted. What would I have done differently so that my kids would not end up in that life threatening situation? I don't know. I do know that I was really strict and clear about what behaviors were appropriate in public venues. I see friends and family who parent differently than I do/did and I try not to compare. But we all want to justify and validate our own decisions so some comparisons are going to happen. My hard and fast rule with little ones was always if I am not touching you or holding your hand we have to be able to see each other's faces. If you can't see my face you are too far away. I think for me this came from living in a city on the border where we were told on the news damn near weekly about children being abducted from under your nose and taken across the border before you could blink. So a fair amount of paranoia and fear were at play here. I hope like hell that my kids don't feel scarred and smothered by this. They haven't ever said so and they are both pretty great and well-adjusted adult people now. That's the thing with parenting, you really just have to go with your gut and good intentions and hope that the love and care come through.
4. Are any of you watching Outlander on Starz? Season 2 has been confusing me mightily so I have started reading the books. I am now on book 2 which seems to be different than the show. Jamie is fantastic, both in the books and the show. Why Claire would think twice about that dry, boring Frank especially knowing his psychopath great grand relative Black Jack is beyond me. But Claire does bug, irk and annoy me.
5. And while on the Scotland topic I am doing more and more research on Ancestry.com. And Scotland and Ireland are both difficult countries to do deep research on. I need to get more details on names, locations and dates so that I can plan a trip to see what all I can find. I am more than a little afraid that I will get to Scotland or Ireland and never want to return. It does call to me.
6. After getting my DNA done on Ancestry I came up with a vision of a tattoo I would love to get. I keep picturing it in my head of what the components are and how to do it. Then I get on Pinterest and what do I find? A whole bunch of people have come up with similar visions! WTH??? I was so thoughtful on what I imagined as a very original idea. Good Lord. Now I am unsure about it. I don't want it to be what everyone else has since I may be chicken and it could very well be my one and only tattoo.
7. It's been a month since my good and dear friend Jon died. It seems like yesterday. The pain and grief are still so very fresh and my feelings so raw. I need to find a positive way to honor him and deal with my sadness. Any ideas?
And all you 12-steppers just said "Hi Lisa Pie" in your heads, didn't you? I am a self-professed recovering codependent person. If you had told me 10 years ago that I was codependent I would have laughed at you and shown you the door. If you had suggested to me that my way of handling things wasn't working and I need to learn a new way, I would have told you that my way was just right and it was all those OTHER jack wagons who were impeding the progress I had so carefully laid out.
Fear and a need to try and control things in your life and around you and in your loved ones' lives is a full-time job. A full-time job with no benefits and lots of heart ache and resentment. And it will suck the life right out of you and leave you with sadness and sometimes bad health due to focusing so much on fixing others and ignoring your own self. That is after you damn near kill your alcoholic/addict with kindness trying to handle everything for them.
If I were to list here all the completely crazy things I have done that made perfect sense to me at the time your own head might explode. You might start to wonder how I am able to get up every day and walk around like I have good sense. And this was all back when I thought I only had one addict in my life.
You know how they say that you are given a lesson over and over again until you get it right? Just recently I was listening to what is called a "speaker tape" even though it is now on CD rather than tape. And it was a man speaking to a gathering of AA and Al-Anon members. What he said was so perfectly in tune with my life he could have been speaking directly to me and about me. And it was as if a light had been turned on in a dark corner of my brain where I was keeping all the files that would show me how codependent I really am. Now in order for that particular analogy to make any sense you should know that I picture my brain much like an old, old library with nothing but card catalog file drawers. And all my thoughts, memories, etc are all in there. So of course, as I have gotten older and older I get more and more file drawers for all of these things. That's why it sometimes takes me a while to find the right drawer and rifle through it for the exact thought I am looking for. This is my story and I am sticking with it.
So what happened when that light was turned on was this: I was suddenly aware of all the times I had chosen the addicted person, the alcoholic, the person with the most stuff to work on to be attracted to. I can pick out a person with an addictive personality at 20 paces. Now to be fair, they tend to be funny, inviting, smart, interesting people. But there is something in me that is drawn to them like a moth to a flame, or you could say like an alcoholic to a bottle of vodka. And I mean friends, boyfriends, lovers, all people. There before me was this long list of people that I had to look at and take stock of. What is the deal that I never saw this before? The speaker on the tape/CD said this "if you are ever questioning whether you think you might be an alcoholic and want an answer here is a surefire way to find out: just come up to me and ask "do you find me attractive?" and that is exactly what I do!
How did I get to be 55 years of age before I was aware of this about myself? I can't answer that. And here's a better question: how is it that my chemical makeup is such that I am drawn to the addictive person rather than to the drugs or the alcohol? I mean, I have used alcohol and cigarettes and some drugs in my life, but I could always quit. And I have. I quit smoking cigarettes 35 years ago. I quit taking drugs/smoking pot not long after that. And I have gradually cut back on my alcohol consumption to the point where I might have 6 or 8 drinks a year. That has come about due to having arthritis and other health issues that require medication and I don't want to overload my liver with the meds and the alcohol. It's just not a big deal for me. Not like eggplant parmigiana. Now, that is a big deal to give up. I am certainly not trying to make light of people who have an addiction that they are struggling with. I am only pointing out that this is one way I can see that I am not a member of that tribe. Anyhoo, I don't know how I could NOT see this as a pattern in my life except to say that it sure is easy to walk around with blinders on and not notice the big obvious elephant in the room.
I am now a loud and proud member of the struggling to improve codependent crew. This will be a life-long endeavor for me. Reading books, doing some step work, going to meetings are a part of my life. I want to be better. I want to be a healthy example of what you can be if you are willing to take the hard looks at yourself and face up to what you have done and what you can do differently. And I will most likely be a glaring example of how to fuck things up occasionally. But I am trying and learning and growing. And I am here if you ever need to talk or need something because that is part of who I am; I am a nurturer and a care-giver. As one of my friends from the meetings said "I never thought I was controlling, I always thought I was just being helpful!"
And just to be a little bit more helpful here is a list of some books that are outstanding:
Actually, if you go to Melody Beattie's website you can read all about her and all her great books. These are just 2 of hers that have been really helpful to me. The one by Sarah Hepola is new and very good. I was surprised at how many things she wrote about that applied to me. And the Daily Meditation one by Misti B I just got and am just starting it. She is taking a humorous approach to the daily meditations that are usually quite serious. I am loving what I am reading so far.
I want to take a few minutes of your time to tell you how special your father was way back in the day. He could not have been any sweeter or more generous with me. I have no idea what kind of man he grew into, nor husband or father. But I know this, he was funny and he was gentle and up for adventure. I always felt completely safe with him and that is a huge deal for me.
When we knew each other I was at a place in my life that was not good. I was struggling to figure out who I was and what my place in the world would be. I had no self esteem and covered that up with being loud, out-going, gregarious and having a devil-may-care attitude about tomorrow. Let's face it, I was a mess. A loud, crazy-acting person who could not find her place to fit in. And he saw me as worthy of spending time with. And as a person worthy of opening his heart and life to. I never felt judged or coming up short.
We went to the movies, restaurants that he most likely could not afford, concerts, bars, parties at the lake, all the usual high school stuff. And there was lots of craziness going on. Picture the movie, "Dazed and Confused". That was parties at the lake. But I always knew he would make sure we got home safe. He spent many hours helping me study to pass a class that I hated or I would have never graduated. I really didn't even care about school at that point, but he still helped me.
After we graduated I moved away. I moved 600 miles away. Not because I wanted to and not because I wanted to be that far, but because I had no other place to live. Circumstances being what they were, it was best that I left my home. And I am eternally grateful for the chance I was given at a fresh start and this is where I ended up meeting my husband, but it was really sad for me to leave. We had no concept of what a long distance relationship would be like, especially back in the day of super expensive long distance calls or slow hand-written letters. But we tried it for a while, a good year of writing, occasional phone calls and even less-occasional visits. And then we made the decision to just give in and call it quits.
And I missed him. There were things that came up in my life and he would be the first person in my mind to call and share these things. But that time had passed and it was just not appropriate for me to do that, so I missed the opportunity to re-connect and stay friends.
So when I came across his sister on Facebook a few years ago, I immediately friended her and was glad to get in touch with his family again. I knew that he had married and had a child, as had I and I wanted to be respectful of those boundaries and not reach out to him directly. Occasionally, when I would speak with his sister she would say that he was very glad that she and I had gotten in touch and that he was happy to get my news through her. I thought we would bridge that gap and communicate directly sometime in the future.
But life being what it is, that future was not to be. The day that I got a message saying that he had passed away from a heart attack in the middle of the night was just unbelievable. I had to read the message 3 times before it soaked in to my brain that this is what had happened. I kept putting the word "almost" in there, as in, we almost lost him last night. Why would my brain do that? Made me wonder what else I am missing. This hit me like a ton of bricks. I know people say that but it truly felt like that. And I mourned the loss of his life, I mourned the lost chance to ever get to see him and look in his eyes and say thank you. Thank you for all the times you were sweet, loving, protective and strong. Missed opportunities to tell someone how much you appreciate them are just so damn sad. For weeks afterwards I had vivid dreams of him and I could smell him.
I have been working hard the past few years with a therapist and going to Al-Anon and learning how to not be such a codependent person. And one of the things I have learned is to quit making decisions based on fear. I don't want fear of the unknown or whatever to rule me and keep me from doing the things that I know I should. One of those things that I should be doing is grabbing opportunities to say the things that should be said. Say the thank yous, say the I love yous, and mostly say the I am so sorrys.
So, to the child of my high school boyfriend, I want to say how deeply sorry I am that your father was taken from you too soon. I am sorry that he and I were not friends and didn't get to sit with you and tell you stories of when he was young, handsome, sweet and loving. The story of us driving to Ft. Worth to a Gregg Allman concert and getting lost on the way home, THAT was a great story. I hope that other friends from different stages of his life will find a way to share memories with you, too.
