A friend sent me this picture of a couple of birds. Not sure where it came from but it sure tells the tale of “it’s all a matter of perspective.”
Living Simply
Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all slow down and follow the pace of a caterpillar?

I know people who move sloooowwwwwly. I have always tried to rush them. They talk slow and halting. Does that mean they think that way? And they rarely are in a hurry. Tell them to get some place by a certain time and they will get there — eventually.
The caterpillar eats a LOT yet they never seem fat to me — perhaps because they keep moving.
Some animals feed on caterpillars and sometimes I feel sorry for my friends who move at a slower pace than I do as sometimes people pick on them.
Yet, I can’t help but think that slowing down is not a bad thing. We miss so many things when we rush — nuances in words, actions and non-action.
I’m not a caterpillar but I can decide to slow down and really take a look at everything and everyone around me.
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In Part 1 of my Mexico cruise, I had mentioned that there were 2 things that were memorable about this trip. The second thing memorable is that I have been sick ever since that trip.
The Carnival cruise ship I went on had some kind of a virus as many people were ill including my husband and son. I, however, did not get sick.
After the cruise ended, I headed back to work. I was working for the IT call center at my company when I felt a little lightheaded. Now — at a call center, your breaks and lunch are scheduled. You just can’t leave your desk without special permission. But that’s exactly what I did.
My dizziness was getting worse and I started to perspire. I closed my “cue” so that no calls would be directed to me. Standing up, I saw the bathroom door just ahead and managed to get inside. “Maybe I have the flu” I told myself. I went into a bathroom stall and just sat there for a little while. I came out and hung onto the wall. “What is this?” I said to no one in particular then slumped to the floor.
Shortly thereafter, a co-worker came to the bathroom and saw me on the floor. She quickly asked what was wrong. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” I muttered. She asked if there was anything she could get me. I asked for water. She left and came back with water and my supervisor.
My head was spinning — my heart racing — my eyes could not focus and I was perspiring. My supervisor asked if I needed an ambulance but I don’t remember responding. Quickly though medics were there. They asked questions but I couldn’t respond. They tried to help me get up but I couldn’t stand.
Finally two strong medics carried me onto the stretcher that was waiting for me and strapped me down. My co-workers were all lined up with concern on their faces as I was wheeled away.
My husband had been called and when I arrived at the emergency room he was already there. They rushed me into a room where they started giving me tests — blood work, EKG, CAT scan. The ER doctor said to me “Do you understand what I’m saying?” Yes, I told him. I couldn’t focus on anything. He asked me to look at him but I couldn’t see him. Then I blacked out. It wasn’t for very long — just enough to get the ER doctor very nervous. When I came to, I felt his hand cross my cheek to wake me.
A few hours later, after the tests found nothing wrong, they released me. The diagnosis was labrynthitis. I lay in bed the rest of the day. The TV sounded like it was blaring so my family turned it down very low. This “amplification” problem continued for a couple of years.
For the next 2-3 months, I could barely walk. In order for me to have a sense of being balanced, I had to touch the wall. A few times, my family and I were sitting in the living room and I got up to go to the bathroom. As I stood and took my first few steps, I started walking in a circle. My balance was all screwed up.
My employer’s health department asked me to call social security to see if I would be eligible for social security disability. “No” came the reply. As long as I could dress myself I was not eligible. I thought how ironic it was that I couldn’t walk without touching a wall most of the time and there were people I knew who walked around “normal” and were on disability.
I went back to work after a few weeks but the fluorescent lights sent me into a whirl of dizziness. Back home I went. Â Eventually, they turned the fluorescent lights around my desk off. My immediate supervisor agreed to let me work “whatever hours you can.” Some days I would work 3 and others I could work 8. Each day was different.
Eventually, my supervisor’s manager met with me and told me that they needed a commitment from me on how many hours I could work. I explained that I couldn’t do that. The doctor’s note also stated that I needed flexibility. The reply was “We need a commitment or you could be fired for not adhering to the schedule.” Great … so much for compassion.
At this point, I had been diagnosed with different things: labrynthitis, vestibulitis, basilar artery migraine. They had ruled out multiple sclerosis, brain tumors, and everything else.
Still — I was not well. I drove myself to church every week only to have to be driven back most of the time. A few minutes before the dizziness started, I could sense it “coming on” which gave me time to pull over if I was driving. The people at church always knew when I would going to have an episode. I would get up and try to make my way to the back of the church. I always had someone come help me and take me home.
I was forced to agree to work a 4 hour day. When I was not able to come in or if I had to leave early, I just did it. It was ironic that they forced me to work a set number of hours as during one of our weekly meetings, my supervisor pulled out a report that showed that I was producing more than a full-time employee in my work group.
Then a miracle occurred. The company offered voluntary lay-off. I was one of the first to accept it. The stress of not knowing whether I was going to be fired was too much for me to take.
I eventually was seen by a specialist at the University of Washington. He ran some tests on me and couldn’t find anything for a few months. One day, thank God, I went in while not feeling well. The doctor put me on a machine that you stand on while it moved and I had no balance. When the test was over he said to me “You indeed have a problem.”
His diagnosis was cochlear deficit disorder. He said that I had a lot of hearing loss in one ear and the other ear also had some hearing loss. The doctor told me that he could do surgery to correct this but there was only a 30-40% chance that it would work. And, if it didn’t work, I would need to be in therapy for awhile as I would need to re-learn how to walk again as only part of my body would be balanced.
“No, thank you” I told him. I didn’t want to take the risk of losing what little balance I had left.
This all started in 1997 and I still have visual problems — I always have a sensation of things moving very slowly. It’s been a about 5 years since I’ve had a bad episode of dizziness.
Currently, my hearing loss is about the same. I watch people’s lips to “hear” what they are saying but sometimes I miss the mark. Recently, I was sent a video by my son who is starting to understand why what I hear is not what is being said. It happens more often than not. This video is a big revelation to those of us who are hard of hearing. (Click below to see it — quite a revelation)

We are still having beautiful weather in Minnesota. I’m really enjoying living here.
Today I went out to work on gathering leaves again. One of the neighbors was walking by and she stopped to chat. I learn many things from her about the neighborhood and about our own house. Her family used to be friends with the previous owners.
I never thought that in my life I would have neighbors who:
I had bought a log rack for our first wood pile but had heard that I could make my own and it would be cheaper. I thought to myself “Why not?”
I went to Fleet Farm (similar to a Lowes but a lot more interesting) and met with a man by the name of Pat. He was so nice. He used to live on Bainbridge Island, WA while in the military and we discussed why I moved to Minnesota.
He was one of the best customer service people I have ever met.
First, he made sure that I had steel brackets to hold the 2×8’s that I would be buying.

Then Pat took me over to where the 2×4’s where. But, I needed five (5) 2×8’s for my project. Pat checked each piece of wood to make sure they weren’t crooked. He told me he is a carpenter on the side.
Once I got the 2×8’s, Pat got a large cart to carry all of this in AND he walked me to the front of the store to the cashier. He then called so someone could help me load the 2×8’s into the car.
So easy! I’m finding that living in a smaller community means that I get better customer service as people pay more attention to me.
After getting my 2×8’s home, I had to saw them to the right size per the instructions on the box that the brackets came in. I needed two 2×8’s, four 2×4’s and two 2×2’s. I used a “straight” saw as that was what Pat said would cut the best. I could have gotten wood that was already treated but Pat said it would be harder to saw.
After I cut my pieces, I stained them with a dark exterior stain.
Once the stain dried, I went and prepared the ground where I was going to place my wood pile. This wood pile would be further away from the house as the wood has to cure (dry) for 6-12 months. I cleared all the debris from the ground and made sure it was fairly level. Then I put bricks down to hold the log rack although the instructions didn’t say I have to do that — extra precaution on my part.

Next start assembling the pieces.

Add the wood to the log rack – it’s so beautiful!

It didn’t take very long to make. The sawing was very quick (make sure you use gloves). The thing that was most time-consuming was waiting for the stain to dry but even that didn’t take too long.
I felt rather giddy after it was all completed. This simple task seemed to bring much joy to my heart.
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Night is drawing near and I’m … raking leaves.
I enjoy raking leaves. It’s weird I know but … it’s what I enjoy.

Instead of pushing the leaves away from me with the push broom, I like to push them towards me. It doesn’t matter that it rained last night and everything is still partially wet. The clouds hovered in the sky today but not one raindrop fell.
Leaves — leaves — leaves.
I’m not sure why I decided that today, when the temperature is a cool 54 degrees and the wind is blowing more than 20 mph, would be the day I took my first Minnesota “long” walk. As my custom was in Seattle, I picked the closest place to my house where I could get a cup of hot chocolate — Dunn Brothers. I allowed 1 hour for this walk of 2.75 miles — Mapquest said it would take me an hour and 6 minutes.
The roads are fairly flat in Minnesota, or so I thought. Driving in a car is much different than walking. I hadn’t noticed all of the small upward slopes in my neighborhood and the roads seem long with bare trees snugging up to them.
A neighbor is ready for the fall season.

The corn fields have already been harvested and everything looks quite bare.
Turning onto the next road, I wonder if I made the right decision — walking when the winds are over 20 mph. Decision time … should I walk with traffic or walk towards the ongoing traffic? I’m sure there’s a rule about this somewhere. My decision is based on the question that pops into my head “Do I want to see a car hit me or be surprised?” I decide to be surprised and walk with traffic.
No sidewalks here — only me, the road and a few cars that pass me by.
The silence is broken as I walk past an overpass — Interstate 694.

And — civilization seems to be straight ahead.
There are signs of winter approaching …
And signs that summer wants to hold on …
Although I lamented that I hadn’t brought my iPod, at the end of my journey I was glad that I had time to reflect — time to be in silence. Those moments are few in this busy world.
My destination was reached in exactly 58 minutes. Not bad for my first long walk in Minnesota.

And their hot chocolate is not too bad.
Having 5 trees felled, we had plenty of wood on the ground that we needed to have split so we could use it in our fireplace this winter.
I checked on Craigslist and found a young man who advertised splitting wood for $25 an hour. I thought that was more than fair so I contacted him and he came out and split the wood. A small bit of a problem occurred though when he came to get paid. He had brought a friend with him who helped him with the work. When he came to collect, he gave me the amount he wanted.
I was rather shocked as it was double what he had stated in the ad. I told him that was not the price in the ad. His response was “It’s $25 per man.” I explained that the ad didn’t say that. He then started talking about how he worked in construction for awhile and this was the going rate, blah, blah, blah. I told him “Well, I don’t work in construction so I wouldn’t know that. I’m going by your ad which says $25 an hour. It says nothing about “per person.”
Unfortunately, I paid him the amount. First, I felt it was fair. At $25 an hour for only him, it would have taken him double the time. The price included the wood splitter that he brought with him.
It was bittersweet. I was previously told that a cord of wood could be split in 20 minutes. They did 3 cords and it took them 3 1/2 hours. But they weren’t lounging around. The hauling of the wood to the wood splitter (especially because the pieces were large) took a lot of work.
We bought a kit that we put together for him to load the wood onto. It worked very well.


It worked very well and sits about 7 feet from the side door to our garage.
So, we went from this —

To this …

I also made my own wood pile rack. I’ll post that at a future date.
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Beautiful sunrises greet me as I drive my husband to work.

Another day alive. I continue to learn to make the best of my moments. Life is not a guarantee.
Back at the house, the smell in the air reminds me of the times I spent at camp when I was growing up. The almost naked trees allow the sun to filter through the branches.
When the leaves turn colors in autumn, I am always drawn to their beauty. Â As the season continues, the leaves turn brown, shrivel up and die. I rake them up and shovel them back onto the property.
Life resembles the season of the leaves. In the autumn of our lives, we become more beautiful as we look back and realize how much wisdom we truly have. We allow ourselves to be who we are and not who others want us to be. But then our bodies, like the leaves, start to wither. And slowly, ever so slowly, we fall to the ground and die.
Our words and actions are composted back through those who love us.
We need to stop and see the beauty in the people around us while they/we are alive.