November was a very intense month for me, which pretty much got off to its auspicious start on Halloween in the parking lot of East Side elementary school.
We finally got the cold and snow that is customary for our region. It just came on so suddenly and so late that it was a bit of a shock. The intense and sudden onset of winter weather combined with the late and dramatic change back to standard time really kicked my energy level into the ground. Winter=cold, snow, wind, bad roads, dark on the way to work, and dark coming home. Yikes, that's so negative!
Winter=skiing, cozy indoor crafting, cozy indoor Sudoku (without too much guilt), the smell of woodstove smoke, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with string, these are a few of my favorite winter things.
John shot a cow elk the day before Thanksgiving. I am hugely thankful for the meat in our freezer and for John having done 99.9% (Erlan and I wrapped a few pounds of burger) of all that shooting an elk entails.
a. Going out day after day and walking miles on foot in the cold. For the past several years John has been granted hunting access on several of the ranches in our area where the elk herds migrate back and forth, pretty much insuring a successful hunt. This fall, however, the elk herd spent more time at higher elevations due to the warmer weather in early November and all of the lovely new grass courtesy of last summer’s fire. So John did quite a bit more hiking this year than in previous years.
b. Shooting the elk. There is this thing I go through with John every year with regard to hunting that is the emotional dance of him coming to terms with all that is involved in the procuring of meat, and me listening and supporting whatever decision he makes (without showing too much irritation, as this is a very dialectical dance). John does not love (or even like) to hunt. For him it is a hugely stressful event and he has to do quite a bit of mental maneuvering to be able to do it. We very much revere the wildlife we share this amazing place with and there is a great deal of psychic compartmentalization that goes on for John with regard to hunting. John hunts with a Sako 75 Finnlight .280 (a commercially dead un-saleable rifle which sat in our local sporting goods shop for about 4 years until John bought it in 2004 and now, supposedly, is a highly sought after caliber with cult status), and uses 150-grain Nosler partitions. Here is a picture of John two years ago; this is a scope injury. He loves looking all scary and psycho like this.
I love wild game, especially elk, especially the tenderloins I roast on Christmas Eve. I have no desire to hunt and pretty much the only thing I know about firearms is always assume they are loaded. Beyond that, I don't know much, and I don't care to. Not only do I have a great man who brings me coffee in bed every morning, I have a great man who fills the freezer.
c. Gutting, getting 400 pounds of meat, hide, and bone home in –10 temperatures, quartering, boning, processing and wrapping.
d. Finding freezer space.
We started family therapy with an attachment/trauma specialist. Erlan is an incredibly well adjusted happy kid given his early childhood circumstances. No kid gets abandoned at birth, spends six years in an orphanage, goes to a strange country with a new language (which means no verbal communication given our lack of familiarity with the Russian and Kazakh languages), and doesn’t have issues. Are we late in the therapy game given that Erlan has been with us for four years, or are we early, given that we don’t have any major problems? Our decision to invest in this process now seems timely and proactive. Erlan is becoming more aware of his learning differences and his frustration, for which he has a low tolerance, has increased with the demands of fourth grade. His use of the English language is proficient and actually sophisticated with regards to humor and irony (content and form still need work). Erlan has always distilled all of his hurt/angry/shameful feelings into “I miss my birth mom” and ultimately we know that this is a reflection of him not feeling worth enough to be cared for and loved. The goal is to help him articulate a birth story, which will allow him to explore all of those feelings of abandonment, worthlessness in a safe and validating environment and then help him create a new story about his life now and the love we have for him and his worthiness in the giving and receiving of love and family.
I got contact lenses, which is something I swore I’d never do again after undergoing Lasix surgery in 2002. I was formerly severely myopic and now suffer from astigmatism. My current prescription needs strengthening; I would need new frames and can’t find any I like, so I’m giving contacts another try and liking them.
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