NTodd Has A Blog?

Út allt, allt út

A warning, but also a beacon of hope.

Pre-Exile, the dogs and I were hunkered down for a few weeks in the studio apartment above my garage.   It was a perfect opportunity to re-binge Game of Thrones, and when I learned the haunting Rains of Castamere was performed by Sigur Rós, I explored a lot more of their music.

Thus, I came across Film #2 from the Valtari Mystery Film Experiment.  The creator, Inga Birgisdóttir:

varúð means caution or warning so this image instantly came to my mind. someone making warning signs with a flashlight. i wanted the varúð video to have a slow build up like the song and leave something for the viewers to imagine for themselves. we have no idea who they are or what they are warning us about.

At the time, I still was struggling to figure out what I ought to do and find the strength to do it.  The video for Varúð really captured my sense of isolation, as well as foreboding, but to me those figures throwing out signals of light to each other also represented possible connections with other human beings who might emerge from the darkness to help lift me up.

My first night truly alone in Exile, hiding in an unfamiliar place without even my animals' companionship, sober less than 48 hours, I reached my nadir and wondered how the hell I could keep going.  Then, just as I was finally drifting off to sleep, my phone lit up.  A text from a completely unexpected quarter:

I just want you to know we support you. I hope you are OK. Please let me know if you need anything...

That made all the difference.

#throwbackthursdaybonusmexedition

For a few months early last year I lived in an undisclosed location.  Out of concern for their welfare, our animals did as well, thanks to the compassionate action of Vashon Island Pet Protectors. 

I was in a place where I couldn't have them, but fortunately the kennel hosting Bailey and Mex was relatively nearby.  Twice daily I schlepped about 1.5mi up a fairly steep hill (not an issue before I got COVID) to walk my doggies in the woods and otherwise spend quality time with them, which was key to our collective mental health.

As an aside, one of my favorite bus drivers once stopped in the middle of the highway to shout an offer of a ride to save my legs (I politely declined since I liked thinking and listening to my tunes).  That is really Vashon in a nutshell.

 

Mexico developed moderate health issues after several weeks in the kennel, so he enjoyed more pampered treatment with some lovely foster people to whom we owe a great debt of gratitude.  A variety of factors prevented me from seeing him during that time, which made our reunion so very sweet (once I removed my mask and he could recognize me).

    

With everybody back home, life was cozy and safe.

 

Even as he really started slowing down this summer, the Old Man could still enjoy a good roll in the grass.  Which is how I'm always going to remember him.

love persevering

Mex loved car rides.

Mex loved his pack.

Mex loved his cats.

Now cracks a noble heart

Mexico entered my life at the beginning of some dark times in 2006 and, having seen us through the darkest of times, in 2021 his watch has ended.


Flights of angels sing thee to thy rest, my buddy bear.  Say hi to Neppy and Kayla for us.

#throwbackthursday

The birthday girl, many, many moons ago.

you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers

Uncle Jeff's popgun shot vanity joyride has nothing on the ultimate right stuff.

I Know You'll Be A Star In Somebody Else's Sky

We didn’t belong together.

- Eddie Vedder

 

I saw a meme on Twitter that was to the effect of, "adulthood is saying next week things will slow down."  It me.

I had a pipe dream that after my last training cohort graduated in May, more time would magically manifest in my world.  The reality: I've added a program management hat to my technical trainer accoutrement, and now I find myself mere days from another cohort launch, which is a long way of saying the blog and other activities have plummeted on my priority list.

Still, today I am taking the time for a little self care before things get even crazier, so here I am sitting in our breezeway with the dogs, enjoying pleasantly normal temps, watching the swallows chase insects, all while receiving updates from my kids about some drama on Discord, etc.  And, uh...blogging.

Next week is made particularly significant by Sadie's 9th (ninth!) birthday.  As usual, it's sort of an Advent Calendar month of festivities, with a variety of gifts appearing by way of my employer (or our parent company, anyway) as we count down to The Day (which my daughter still proudly notes to everybody is Moon Landing Day).

What's unusual, if not unique, is this marks Sadie's first natal anniversary with a single dad.  I mean, last year I was also flying solo for all intents and purposes, but she and Samuel still had court-mandated contact with their mother.  And days after Sadie's 8th, they saw her for the last time, then she...just vanished. 

In the immediate aftermath there were a few "events" that provided the family with proof of life, but it's been several months now since even the vaguest hint was detected.  As I said on Mother's Day, may she finally be getting whatever help she needs.

Hitting rewind for a moment, some folks might know/recall that a major reason we left VT for the PNW was Ericka's failing health.  We'd hoped that moving closer to family support and the renowned Oregon Health & Science University would help us get a handle on what ailed her.  

Sadly, a half-dozen years and a half-dozen clinics/hospital systems later, there was no resolution.  What's more, her deteriorating physical condition was accompanied by serious cognitive decline and a marked rise in emotional dysregulation.

There is a direct line from this to my suicide attempt on August 9, 2019, as well as my decision to pour that last glass of port into the sink on January 22, 2020.  Those were important waypoints in my journey, but the most fateful decision I made was screwing up my courage and reaching out to our island's domestic violence advocacy organization, the DOVE Project.

Without DOVE, I wouldn't have been able to imagine a different, safer world for us.  They helped me navigate emotional and legal shoals.  They supported me when I was living in an undisclosed location, as well as when I was able to return to my home and children.  I often get weepy when I think about how lucky we were to discover this place and have the wherewithal to move to such a beautiful community.

Finally, a word about the picture above.   As you might imagine, I am caught in a tempest of conflicted feelings.  Fundamentally, I'm still not ready to let go, and  I guess I feel like a close approximation to a being a widower, except there is no finality, no closure.

So the rings.  I moved my wedding band to the ring finger on my right hand (hope none of my fellow Ukrainians think that means I'm still married).  Additionally, I got myself an inexpensive ring for my left pinky.  Made of resilient tungsten, bounded by thin gold plating.  Together, the two represent the unsettled space I now occupy.

With that, I'll stop oversharing so I can put some dinner on my family.  Thanks for being there, and peace be with you.

#throwbackwednesday

Circa 1971: Me and Gramps, who would be 107 today.

#throwbackmonday

From a college friend.  The kids laughed at my lack of facial hair.

The Petty States of America

A buncha messy, petty bitches who did nothing but start shit with each other in their pseudonymous pamphlets, fuck yeah America.

 - Athenae, 7/4/2021

My friend is spot on, as usual.

We tend to mythologize our Founders as wise men, united in common cause, dedicated to liberty and shit.  Yet they were not only burdened with glorious purpose, but were all too human, weighed down by bloated ego and foibles we all share to some extent.

As His Rotundity, John Adams, once wrote to his beloved Abigail (just after Gov Gage dissolved the Massachusetts assembly):

The Business of the Congress is tedious, beyond Expression. This Assembly is like no other that ever existed. Every Man in it is a great Man-an orator, a Critick, a statesman, and therefore every Man upon every Question must shew it his oratory, his Criticism and his Political Abilities.

The Consequence of this is, that Business is drawn and spun out to an immeasurable Length. I believe if it was moved and seconded that We should come to a Resolution that Three and two make five We should be entertained with Logick and Rhetorick, Law, History, Politicks and Mathematicks, concerning the Subject for two whole Days, and then We should pass the Resolution unanimously in the Affirmative.

So really, nothing's change in a couple centuries.  Which fact is apparent with a casual glance at the Twitter feeds of many Members of Congress.