Category Archives: Life

Could-Not-Stand-It!

Posted in Fun, Life, Travel by

Something strange has come over me, something that has never really happened before. Upon arriving to Hungary, after about 22 hours of travelling, Zsolt and I first visited his sister in Budapest where we stayed the night, then travelled onward to Lake Balaton. At the lake (a lake that holds a big piece of my heart, as many of you know, but where the cottage also gives me crazy allergies after about two nights of sleeping in the big room) we met up with his parents for the weekend. Six of us in the small cottage: Zsolt’s sister, brother-in-law, parents and us. When we pulled up in the car his parents had already arrived; Anna (mother-in-law) came running towards us with her hands waving and say, “Hello, hello!”, then gave us careful and restrained kisses on each cheek. Zsolt followed that up by giving her a hug (even though they normally only kiss on the cheek) and I think she appreciated the affection.

Where was I going with this? Oh, right. . .

Something strange has come over me. I think it’s a combination of last year’s adventure where we moved A-to-Z every half a week visiting friends and family, plus this past week before leaving when we were at a cottage with my family in Canada, then added to by moving from location to location once arriving in Hungary.  Somewhere in there a switch has flipped. Suddenly, without warning, I have developed an extreme need to unpack my suitcase.

Never do I unpack the suitcase, unless we’ve finally arrived home . . . and even then, it takes me a week to bother. But upon leaving Balaton (see you later, you big blue water . . . and allergenic reactions of itchy eyes and throat) and arriving in Zsolt’s beautiful home town of Pecs – I HAD to empty that suitcase.

Didn’t matter if the clothes had to be piled neatly on the floor, the shelves, the desk . . . the only thing I could really think about was taking everything out so I didn’t have to root through the case one more time for a spare sock, or bra (or boob!), or whatever. Thankfully, Anna had made some room on the shelves, so there was the perfect amount of space for my stuff. It’s all out now. The t-shirts, the dresses, the sweaters, the underwear, the vitamins, the beauty stuff.

And what’s even crazier, is that today I TIDIED. Couldn’t stand the growing mess of two days in the same room – had to put everything away where it belonged. Could Not Stand the mess!

What, I ask, has come over me? Back when I was a little girl, I used to push the toys and clothes under my bed (hidden by the dust ruffle) whenever instructed to clean. Even today I don’t love pulling out the gloves and attacking grime and/or dust . . . but an untidied bedroom? No. No. No. No.

So, clearly someone has secretly hypnotized me into a compulsion for order. I have my suspects – you know who you are (mother, father, or husband. Most likely husband. . . Zsolt probably whispers in my ear at night, “clean your side of the bedroom, pick up the mess.”)

Lesson Learned: Apparently some things do change – like patience, temperament, and preferences for having an essentially clutter-free room.

I don’t know how it happened, but it has happened.

Maybe soon I’ll feel a compulsion to clean the bathroom, scrub the floors, vacuum the house, dust the shelves and clean out the fridge. Maybe. But that would take some really strong hypnosis . . .

Sole Searching

Posted in Fun, Life by

As I sit here in the airport lounge, waiting for my flight to London to board (with Zsolt beside me trying to sleep), I’d like to stop a moment and consider my footwear: the sandal with socks.

Blue strapped Birkenstocks with a sole shaped to my foot from seasons of wear; thick hiking socks for the winter with heel, toe and arch support. The whole is more powerful than the parts. Put together you not only have a great sandal and warm toes – you have the ultimate source of comfort that your feet could ever enjoy, just short of a pedicure massage with that scented oil mixed with salt. You have, ladies and gentlemen, the perfect compromise.

Support from the study cork sole mixed with security of the leather straps. But unlike a shoe the sandal is an open forum of air, sweat, and exchange. “My feet will get cold!” you say? Meet the sock – the thick multi-coloured hiking sock: often found ‘too warm’ within the conventional shoe, coupled with a sandal, the warmth provided is of the perfect temperature – moisture is whisked away from the body, preventing stink, and air conditioning can’t get at you with its chill.

Okay, so people – some people – hate the combination. But I would say they’ve never really given it a good shot. Just spend a full afternoon in the mix, and you’ll be a convert.

Socks and sandals are totally cool. They’re cool because they’re quality. What else really matters?

So on that note we are flying off to England, then on to Austria, then on to Budapest (a la bus), then Erd (a la car). It’s a lonnnnnnnng trip. So long, I had to insert those extra ‘n’s just so you could get a sense. But the end will be totally worthwhile. Visiting family is always fun, plus a change of scenery never hurts, and I happen to be a great big fan of Lake Balaton (where time stands still and the sun always shines).

This week I’ve heard some hard things – not related to me directly, but with people I know both online and in the real world. Hard, stupid things that made me stomp my feet and say ‘what the frack’. Unfortunately, that’s the way it is and in these situations it’s out of my hands.  Maddening stuff – infuriating stuff – heart-breaking stuff. It’s really hard to be diagnosed with cancer, really freaking hard, but also even more heartbreaking with people you care about suffer the same fate.

But I read something this week that struck a chord and made me think: ‘yes.’

It was a plea from one of the bloggers online who has been told some very rough news. She asked us to enjoy the moment. Do it for her. Do it for yourself.

So here we are in the moment. My feet are comfortable. The plane is loading. I’m married to an incredible man. We are okay. We are a-okay. And despite all the stress of jobs and hospitals and doctors and whatever . . . we are about to have an awesome adventure. Despite all the crap, good things can happen, and it’s not worth feeling guilty over. Is it – no, it’s not. It’s worth celebrating, and appreciating . . . cause you never know when the party ends.

Sorry – my light hearted post about footwear just turned sombre. I’ll stop. The thing with writing these posts is all kinds of emotions can pour onto the page. (And honestly, I’ve got the stopper in pretty tight, so this is just some of the really determined stuff getting through.)

It will be good to eat goulash. Good to sit by the water. Good to go for bike rides. Good to escape the stressors. Good to eat a langos. Good to see Zsolt’s family. Good to meet with friends. And SO good to sail across the Atlantic.

Look out – there’s a heck of a great summer on the way so we may as well enjoy it. Here, in the moment,  life can be so good. (Thank goodness.)

P.S. No time for spell check! Boarding!

 

Here comes the thirty train!!

Posted in Finding Home, Fun, Life, Love, self growth by

My birthday is in 25 minutes and counting down. It’s not like fireworks are going to erupt at 9 a.m. but I will suddenly and officially be thirty. Zsolt likes to say that I’ve been 30 these past six months, which reeks of logic and tastes like haste. I’m 29 this very moment, and then, once the clock ticks ahead – WHAMO – 30.

A lady editor once taught me that numbers over ten are to be written in word-form. Like forty-six or eighteen or twenty-nine. She did not teach me about those little dashes, however, and I put them in only because I think it looks better. Much of my grammar is based on ‘what looks better’, which likely explains why much of my grammar is incorrect.

So here is a secret about my thirties (which I hope by declaring will no longer make it a secret and banish away this stupid notion) . . . I’m a wee bit worried about them, because for the entirety of my life – thinking back to when I was ten, or 12, or 19, or 20, or 25, I could never imagine what it would be like in my thirties. What would my face look like? How tall would I be? What sort of work would I be doing? Would I live in a house, have a dog, babies, purpose? Marriage . . . I could never imagine my wedding until it had actually happened.

And I thought to myself (very quietly) what I was wasn’t going to turn 30? What if I couldn’t imagine it because it was never going to happen? Would I die before I turned 30? (Now you have a sense for how dramatic my stupid thoughts can get!)

Flashback two years ago when I was diagnosed with cancer at 27 (almost 28), and my panic mode was really kicking in. It was all – “oh, shit, Catherine, you have cursed yourself with this stupid unknown decade obsession. Now hurry up and start WANTING something from your next chunk of life, and the one after that, and after that, and etc.”

Because I reckon when we really, really want something, we can accomplish that desire even if it takes time. Actually, I think it’s a powerful sort of thing to want something badly – and to know in your mind  that it will happen. That stuff is better than magic beans and three wishes combined. That’s determination, and I think it makes all the difference.

So what am I determined to do in my thirties? Live, survive, become a novelist, love-love-love, buy a cottage in Balaton (Hungary), have those babies (this desire is attached with many other quiet and dramatic fears, which need to be dealt with eventually), be with Zsolt, laugh with Zsolt, explore with Zsolt, have family dinners, keep my amazing friends and make even more (if it’s possible since we keep freaking moving!), stay in shape, never have cancer again,  get a dog, and be good to others – take care, support, encourage, contribute, be there.

Anyhow, that’s my life. My life in my thirties. Once the forties creep up I’ll need to revise this list.

Everyday is a good day and every birthday granted is really the best gift possible. I love living, so am very glad to be doing so today.

There it is – ten minutes left! Here comes the 30 train, and I’ll be hopping on quite happily.

(Psst. I bought myself a big 30 piñata that I’m going to smash to pieces, therefore showing 30 that I can indeed conquered this stupid age-hump of unknowingness that is in my mind. Plus I bought myself balloons that say 30 on them, and napkins, and this blow-up thing that shoots out 30 everywhere, and a candle in the shape of a 30, and fireworks for the evening. Because I figured that for me today was special, even if on the outside it looks like yet another birthday, and it was going to be celebrated in a ridiculous way here at this cottage . . . even if the party only consists of my closest family, that’s okay. I’m turning 30. Everything is okay.)

And if it’s your birthday soon too, of if it’s just past, or you just want to join the party – HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you too!! Wooohoooo! Isn’t it nice to celebrate good things? 🙂

(Hey! It’s now past 9 a.m. – we made it!!! )