DISCLAIMER: I try to keep it light on my blog. I figure there's enough pessimism, depth and ...well... whining on the internet without me adding my drop to the bucket. But it's New Year's Eve, and I just watched Jerry McGuire (who can watch that movie without getting all philosophical?), so this post is going to be a little different.
Feel free to go back to scrolling through Facebook at any time.
Looking back on the year I've had, I can say, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it has been the hardest year of my life so far.
My life has been so blessed, and I know so many others, maybe even you, have a had it much harder than I have in 2013. But for me, this was a really difficult year.
That's not to say it was all bad.
Challenges are often the result of opportunity, and I have been given some great opportunities this year. So there's that.
But sometimes it's hard to see the opportunity for what it is, when the challenge seems insurmountable. Like August 12, 2013, the day I officially moved to Grand Forks, North Dakota, about 1,200 miles from the only part of the world I could imagine calling home.
I'm embarrassed to admit that I cried myself to sleep that night.
I didn't really understand then what I know now. My home is not tied to a place, a region or an old, yellow brick farm house sitting in a field of red dirt. It's tied to my heart, and I gave that to J. Dykowski a (relatively) long time ago.
I just saw a tight knit group of people I didn't know with funny accents, cigarettes and bad taste in Mexican food. I can be a really closed-minded snob sometimes...
To be honest, from the start this experience has been nothing like what J or I thought it would be, but we're learning and growing. It's humbling, and it's hard.
But it's worth it.
Some of the challenges that made this year so difficult are things I didn't get to chose. Like losing my grandpa.
I want to write about him. What he taught me even after he was gone. How he filled a special role in my life. But I can't seem to find the right words. Maybe someday I will. For now I think I'll just leave it alone.
In my "professional" life I've had some challenges too. From delaying graduation to having to find a job outside of my degree, it didn't go according to my plan.
But I did graduate. And I love my current job, and there are exciting opportunities on the horizon for me to continue building my academic CV. So we'll count that as a victory.
2013 had a lot of other challenges, hard choices and victories I won't get into. I feel like I grew as a person, but mostly I just see a long road of struggles ahead and changes I still need to make.
2014 is only about a half hour away. With it comes a whole new set of challenges, opportunities and struggles. I'm probably not ready, but I'm as ready as I can be.
Mostly, I'm just grateful that I don't have to face it alone.
Thank you, friends and family old and new for sticking with me through thick and thin this year.
Happy New Year.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Shoveling snow: Mrs. Dykowski and the great big drift
Dear readers,
Most of you know by now that my journeys in the great white north are a learning experience in more ways than one.
As I type, we're experiencing our first blizzard.
In Texas of course a "blizzard" (I've only seen one that might have been called a blizzard in all my years as a Texan, and I'm pretty sure it doesn't actually count.) means everyone stays home except those people who are absolutely needed for society to function.
That group never included me.
In North Dakota, if you want a snow day, you have to take PTO, and that's not an option for me if I want to go back to Texas without quitting my job. This all leads to one harsh reality of life: driving slow and shoveling snow.
Before today, I thought shoveling snow was fun, I have a pretty red snow shovel, and the snow is glittery and light. You feel so accomplished when you're done shoveling, because the area you cleared is smooth and nice and there's a pile of unwanted snow out of the way that you can look at and say 'I did that!'
Tonight, all of that changed.
Tonight, I drove across town in some crazy snow to get home from work. Luckily most of the roads are well traveled, so it wasn't so bad until I got to the street I live on, which was white, no visible stripes or curb, but I navigated that okay for the 3 blocks to my apartment. Then I turned into the driveway to our garages and my tires started spinning.
On the farm where I grew up, I was notorious for getting trucks stuck in sand in the turn row, so I know a couple of tricks for getting out... (One of them is call dad, but that one doesn't work here.) And snow is different, so I just put the car in park and walked around it to see what the issue was.
There was so discernible issue, so I backed up about a foot and pressed onward, slowly. Finally with two left turns a few hasty prayers, I made it to the row garages to find a great big drift piled in front of the garage door.
Bummer.
I never thought I'd have to dig my way into somewhere. But that's just what I did. I had to take a brief intermission to move my car our of a guy's way in the meantime.
Half an hour later I made it into the garage, finished up shoveling in front of Scott's garage, looked at the mountain I built on the other side and waded to the door.
I say waded because leading up to the door the snow came up to my mid-calf or higher. Thank heaven for tall Northface boots. At first, I wasn't sure the door would open but luckily a strong neighbor had pushed it open just a few minutes before I came in, clearing a path.
Whoa y'all that was some snow! And I'm pretty sure I'll see worse before it's all said and done...
As the North Dakotans say, "yooo betcha!"
Most of you know by now that my journeys in the great white north are a learning experience in more ways than one.
As I type, we're experiencing our first blizzard.
In Texas of course a "blizzard" (I've only seen one that might have been called a blizzard in all my years as a Texan, and I'm pretty sure it doesn't actually count.) means everyone stays home except those people who are absolutely needed for society to function.
That group never included me.
In North Dakota, if you want a snow day, you have to take PTO, and that's not an option for me if I want to go back to Texas without quitting my job. This all leads to one harsh reality of life: driving slow and shoveling snow.
Before today, I thought shoveling snow was fun, I have a pretty red snow shovel, and the snow is glittery and light. You feel so accomplished when you're done shoveling, because the area you cleared is smooth and nice and there's a pile of unwanted snow out of the way that you can look at and say 'I did that!'
Tonight, all of that changed.
Tonight, I drove across town in some crazy snow to get home from work. Luckily most of the roads are well traveled, so it wasn't so bad until I got to the street I live on, which was white, no visible stripes or curb, but I navigated that okay for the 3 blocks to my apartment. Then I turned into the driveway to our garages and my tires started spinning.
On the farm where I grew up, I was notorious for getting trucks stuck in sand in the turn row, so I know a couple of tricks for getting out... (One of them is call dad, but that one doesn't work here.) And snow is different, so I just put the car in park and walked around it to see what the issue was.
There was so discernible issue, so I backed up about a foot and pressed onward, slowly. Finally with two left turns a few hasty prayers, I made it to the row garages to find a great big drift piled in front of the garage door.
Bummer.
I never thought I'd have to dig my way into somewhere. But that's just what I did. I had to take a brief intermission to move my car our of a guy's way in the meantime.
Half an hour later I made it into the garage, finished up shoveling in front of Scott's garage, looked at the mountain I built on the other side and waded to the door.
I say waded because leading up to the door the snow came up to my mid-calf or higher. Thank heaven for tall Northface boots. At first, I wasn't sure the door would open but luckily a strong neighbor had pushed it open just a few minutes before I came in, clearing a path.
Whoa y'all that was some snow! And I'm pretty sure I'll see worse before it's all said and done...
As the North Dakotans say, "yooo betcha!"
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| The view from our apartment last night. |
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| The view from our apartment tonight. |
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