Decision between Winter Build or Waiting Till Spring

We had quite the dilemma before us a few months ago.  We had to decide whether to build through the winter and incur the costs associated with wintertime work or prolong cabin living and wait to build until springtime. 

Well, we have the most awesome builder, Scott Treu, who suggested we do something between those options... try to get the hole excavated, footings and foundation poured, maybe even the basement slab done and then wait.  That would put us first in line for work when the weather warmed, without having to compete with those anxiously awaiting to start a springtime build.  This seemed the best option, but the weather would have to cooperate, so we have spent the last few weeks watching the weather and hoping the workers would be able to dig, pour and inspect.

Well, last week this happened, the dig...

Then, after a lighter than anticipated winter storm last Monday, this happened, footings prepared and then poured...

With no storms in the forecast for two weeks, we should have the foundation walls framed and poured very soon and then the basement slab finalized.  The good part of having no snow!!

Now, if we are lucky, framers wanting work during the slow months will contact our builder and be willing to work without charging for snow removal and other winter associated costs. I can hardly believe this is happening!!!

Nurses Can Facilitate Memories

I returned to work this week and found a Thank You card in my break room box.  It was from the daughter of a patient I cared for this summer.  It read...

"Dear Andi - As I'm sure you are aware, my dad passed away on ***.  I just wanted to say thank you from myself and my sister for all the compassion and care you showed him while he was in your care.  That walk that we took with him in the wheelchair with you and Doug (our physical therapist) to the patio was one of the only times I saw him happy at the hospital...so, from the bottom of my heart, thank you!"

We nurses make decisions every day that can make a difference in the lives of those we care for, both patients and families.  I am so thankful I overlooked the inconvenience of a busy shift and made time to take this patient and his daughters outside on a beautiful, sunny summer day.  My attention to an inner voice allowed this 80+ year old father to smile and see the mountains one last time with his daughters, in what turned out to be one of his final days.

I remember my two days caring for "Bill" very well. He had been involved in a motor vehicle accident a few weeks earlier and was finally approaching the point of being strong enough to remove his breathing tube.  His older age and many broken bones were a concern for everyone caring for him, but he was mentally aware and passed the breathing test, so we doctors, nurses and his daughters decided to give him a chance and removed the tube.  If he wasn't strong enough to safely maintain his airway, we would consider the next step of a shorter breathing tube in his neck.  His daughters were pleased with the decision.

The time that Bill and his daughters had to share and interact with each other without his breathing tube was a privilege to quietly observe.  Bill wore his daughters fashionable sunglasses while we were outside and we took a photo of them while on the patio, a photo that I am sure will be cherished forever.  Unfortunately, his seemingly more healthy time did not last long.  Bill used all his strength and energy to try to protect and clear his airway, but we could see he was wearing himself out and would eventually need our help.  Before it was too late, he was able to tell his girls that he did not want a breathing tube in his neck, which proved to be a great help and comfort for his daughters.

My shift ended and I would not return to work for a few days.  I learned of Bill's passing and wondered how his daughters were feeling.  I knew I had given them the best I could during those two shifts and hoped it would provide some solace during their loss.  The thank you card waiting for me  answered my wondering.  I am relieved I took a step away from the busy tasks of those days and, instead, created an everlasting memory for all of us involved.

Rest in peace, Bill.

Official Rural Dwellers

The convenience of being surrounded by easily accessible needs of daily life is no longer a part of my world.  We officially sold our Salt Lake home of nineteen years and are living in our mountain home within the Western Uinta mountains.  We traded our human neighbors for chipmunks, birds, deer, prairie dogs, moose and the occasional porcupine.

We took my canoe on Smith and Morehouse four days last week and loved that we were able to leave the house and be on the water within 20 minutes.  Wow!  Brenda caught fish every time with either her trusty lure or her fly fishing skills.  It is always fun to paddle her around the water.

Cabin Living

A logical question from those who learn we are selling our house is where will you live?  Our answer is simple, at the cabin.  Now, this is a beautiful option during the more gentle weather, but winter can be harsh and the gates are locked from late November until mid-April at the earliest, which means a snowmobile commute or walk.  This will need to be carefully considered.

The cabin has been a haven of safety since Brenda found it five years ago.  It has nurtured me through some emotional experiences that helped weave it into my soul.  The thought of making it our primary residence seems like an appropriate step to hopefully, eventually find a way to come to terms with letting it go.  There is penetrating peace in every bit of that place. It is impossible to even consider not having access to it, but maybe after building our house a mere twelve miles away, it will begin to seem plausible.

Location, Location, Location (Selling Our House)

During the past 3-4 years, the street we live on has experienced some unusual, unique behaviors.  Our neighbors have moved to different houses on our same street.  The house directly to our east was rebuilt by the family that now lives a few houses to our west.  They sold the rebuilt house to our neighbors who used to live across the street, a couple of houses down. Neighbors across the street moved two houses up while they made changes to their house and plan to move back.  Another neighbor across the street bought the house across the street from them and are renting it out.  It is a strange phenomenon that we figured may be to our advantage when we decided to sell our house.

Well, that time has come and, with the history of neighbors buying within our same street, we decided that letting our neighbors know by word of mouth may be a feasible option.  Within one week of spreading the news, we were showing our house to a family who lives around the corner and within 36 hours accepted their offer without ever listing our house. 

Now, their purchase is contingent upon them selling their house, but within one weekend of them listing their house, they had accepted an offer on it.  If all goes well, we will close on our land and then close on our Salt Lake house within ten days afterwards.

I've often experienced big decisions in my life seemingly being orchestrated by a power beyond my control and this seems to be following suit. The pieces feel a bit out of order, but I'll take this bumpy ride if it lands me in a comfortable house on that beautiful Uintah property I wrote about on my previous entry.

What's Up With Me

So many months without posting, what's up with that?  Well, there is a reason... Brenda and I have embarked on an unexpected adventure.  We were talking during our drive home from yet another Ironman event, and discovered deep seeded desires which helped us consider the reality of selling our house in Salt Lake, where we have lived almost nineteen years.  We realized it was time to start the next chapter of our lives.

It seems like decisions of this magnitude should take time to come to fruition, but not in our case.  Fourteen days after talking about this possibility, we found ourselves needing a distraction when our Labrador was in the doggie hospital overnight (all is well, that's a post all in itself).  We took a drive to look at a few lots for sale in the Wasatch Back area and happened upon one that we both loved and another that we really liked.  We set up an appointment with the realtor to officially "see" both properties and six days after that put an offer on the lot we both loved.  This was less than one month after we talked about the possibility of making a change.  Then, the day after our offer, we accepted the seller's counteroffer and went under contract for a 4-acre, beautifully fenced lot at the base of the Uintah mountains.  We are preparing and hoping for an official closing in a few weeks.  My how things change.

In Progress...My Mom's and My Perspective of the World's Toughest Ironman

Here is a peek at what I am working on...

I am writing about my unexpected experience during Ironman St. George in 2012 and including my mom's perspective from the sidelines.  I hope to release it as both paperback and eBook within the next couple of months. 

Scary Moose Encounter during a Snowy Ski Morning

My black Labrador, Kai, and I were cross country skiing yesterday on a snowy morning at our cabin.  The snow was dumping from the sky as I skied in 10-12 inches of fresh powder with Kai running along my side.  It was beautiful! 

 

 

Kai was staying close to me and there had been no signs of wildlife, so I left her off lead.  She loves running in the snow and has learned not to attack my skies or poles as they hide and reappear from underneath the snow.  We have so much fun together, especially on weekdays when most cabin owners are in the valley working.

 

As we completed a loop, we were both enjoying ourselves, so I decided to ski for longer.  We headed towards one of my favorite trails and Kai was happy to realize we were not going back to the cabin.  She forged ahead and found a collection of new smells near a pine tree and needed to check them out. 

 

I continued up the road and noticed some moose or deer tracks which had already been covered with new snow, so I figured they weren't fresh.  Kai was behind me, still checking out the new smells,and I noticed a large shadow ahead, in the middle of the road, right where I was heading.  Because of the heavy snowfall I could not immediately tell what it was.  Sometimes curves in the road can make items appear to be in the road when they are actually along the side.  It was only a moment later that I realized we were approaching a large moose, standing tall in the road and looking right at us. 

 

Photo borrowed from marcpicard.com.  It wasn't an appropriate time for me to take a photo.



I immediately knew I needed to grab Kai by her collar because her lead was in my pocket and there was no time to get it.  If Kai, a 2 year old lab, saw the moose before I could get hold of her, we could have a problem.  I backed up until I was alongside Kai; I noticed my skies all of a sudden seemed much longer and more difficult to maneuver.  I reach for Kai's collar and my poles were making that very difficult.  I glanced at the moose and it was still in the same place, only about 40 feet ahead of us.  I was thankful for the heavy snow, as it prevented Kai from immediately noticing the moose.  

 

I needed to turn around so I could head down the mountain and away from the moose.  Kai had seen our friend and was very interested.  I had a death grip on her collar with my left hand and my ski pole was flinging around because the strap was secured around my wrist.  My skies were still headed uphill and maybe a little bit sideways.  I looked again at the moose, hoping it was still in the same position, but no, it had lowered its head and was methodically walking towards us.  My heart rate quickened as I sensed the moose was not going to just let us turn around and leave; we needed to get out now. 

 

I knew moose were not intelligent animals and, if I were ever chased, my plan was to get behind a tree and keep the tree between me and the moose.  Unfortunately, this was not possible with over four feet of snow off the road and with a puppy who would most likely not understand my plan. All I could do was head away from the moose.

photo borrowed from huffington post

As I was stepping my skies while trying to turn around, their tips crossed and I fell on my side, still maintaining my grip on Kai's collar.  She was on my left, watching the moose, as I was trying to straighten my skies so I could stand up.  My skies were not cooperating at all.  I tried to force my leg to make my binding release, but cross country skies are not easy to pop out of.  They are made to be mobile.  I needed to stand, as I glanced back and the moose was still approaching us, getting closer with its head lowered.  I didn't like that one bit.

 

Somehow I muscled myself up and straightened my skies, while both holding Kai's collar and ignoring the wrong direction my poles were heading.  I could start moving in the right direction, down the mountain, while tugging Kai along my side.  She did not want to turn away from the approaching moose.  I calmly told Kai to leave the moose alone, but, to no surprise, my urging landed on deaf, curious puppy ears.  At least she wasn't barking.  I think she could sense there was something I didn't like about our situation.

 

I willed my body to remain upright, as I was leaning down, to my left, with a wriggling sixty-five pound dog attached to my hand who still wanted to go the opposite direction from where we were heading.  I was twenty feet from the road we could turn on and then hope the moose would not follow. 

 

We made it to the turn and each time I looked behind us I was more and more relieved there was no sign of the moose.  I eventually felt safe enough to reach into my pocket, get Kai's lead and clip it to her collar.  It felt good to stand upright and she was happy to be free from my hand.

 

We skied to our cabin and I thought we would be done, but nope, we decided to continue on.  It was a beautiful day and we both wanted to be outside.  We skied another loop of our cabin road, this time I left Kai on lead.  She happily carried the lead in her mouth, which is what we usually do when we ski when more people are around.  We were happy to complete our adventure without another moose encounter.  Had I been wearing my heart rate monitor, it would have been interesting to see how my heart actually responded.  At times it felt like it could have beat its way out of my chest.  All is good and we will ski again, most likely tomorrow!  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Seemingly Unconquerable Fear of Change

I am beginning to write my next book about my experience of fighting through an unexpectedly fearful athletic situation.  As I remember what it took for me to fight through that challenge, I realize I have additional fears to conquer - one of which is my fear of change.



I often hear people say that nobody likes change.  This may give people like me an excuse; those of us who allow our fears to prevent us from experiencing the world outside our safe, comfortable places.  If nobody likes change, then my avoidance of change must be normal... WRONG!  This is totally untrue and hurts me and those who live with me in my safe, comfortable place.  As much as it frightens me, I don't want to be the one who limits potential experiences because I avoid change.

For example, we live in an older house which is starting to show its age.  The thought of making necessary changes to our house makes my heart race and my mind becomes unsettled.  This isn't an exciting thing for me; it has paralyzing potential.  Thankfully, my wonderful Brenda knows these things need to be done and is trying to maneuver her way to help our simple, old house continue to be a comfortable place to live.  Now I need to find the courage to not be an obstacle for her efforts and, instead, use them as an opportunity to face change head on and lessen its monstrous effect upon me.  Why should I fear change or the unknown?  What is the worst that could really happen?

Thankfully, I can look to my father's example, who was most likely the one who shared this fear of change with me.  Last year he found a way to allow my mom to entirely redo the upstairs of their home, even though he could have happily lived forever with things the way they were.  I understand this was difficult for him, but he did it because he loves my mom.  I want those whom I love and my home to be more important than catering to my fear of change.  Sounds like a meaningful project for 2017, huh???!!!