It was a relatively new procedure back then known as “coiling” and the gist of what happened included a cable inserted into a vein near my hip/groin that held a tiny robotic arm that snaked its way up to my brain and installed a titanium coil into the aneurysm, as well as a stent in the artery to prevent collapse.
Neat, right? But so not the point of this post. Around that time I started dating the adorable man who is now my husband. We had lots of talks that winter leading up to the surgery about “bucket lists.” Who had ‘em, whether people needed them, and whether he was on mine. Ha!
I never got around to sitting around and thinking about what I wanted to achieve before “kicking the bucket.” I had kids to care for, bills to pay, husbands to nag…you know how it goes.
And it’s not that I’m necessarily morbid these days, it’s just that this stupid state has me so damned bored with it’s extreme cold and it’s “most frigid January in Anchorage history.” We’re housebound. We’re antsy. And we’re dreaming of things we can’t do right now because our cars aren’t starting and our finger tips freeze before we reach the mailbox.
But I’ve sat down and thought of a few and I’m ready to share. I didn’t number them. I don’t think the order is as important as just accomplishing them. And who knows when I’ll get around to them, but at least I’ve recorded them and if the law of attraction has anything to say about it, these experiences are already on their way to me. So there!!
So, in no particular order, here’s my “list.” (And yes, I’m refusing to call it a bucket list. It’s just a “list.”)
Neat, right? But so not the point of this post. Around that time I started dating the adorable man who is now my husband. We had lots of talks that winter leading up to the surgery about “bucket lists.” Who had ‘em, whether people needed them, and whether he was on mine. Ha!
I never got around to sitting around and thinking about what I wanted to achieve before “kicking the bucket.” I had kids to care for, bills to pay, husbands to nag…you know how it goes.
And it’s not that I’m necessarily morbid these days, it’s just that this stupid state has me so damned bored with it’s extreme cold and it’s “most frigid January in Anchorage history.” We’re housebound. We’re antsy. And we’re dreaming of things we can’t do right now because our cars aren’t starting and our finger tips freeze before we reach the mailbox.
But I’ve sat down and thought of a few and I’m ready to share. I didn’t number them. I don’t think the order is as important as just accomplishing them. And who knows when I’ll get around to them, but at least I’ve recorded them and if the law of attraction has anything to say about it, these experiences are already on their way to me. So there!!
So, in no particular order, here’s my “list.” (And yes, I’m refusing to call it a bucket list. It’s just a “list.”)
• Get a paper published in the Jane Austen Society of North America’s scholarly journal “Persuasions.” To celebrate, must visit Chawton, Jane Austen’s home and museum in England. Must. Will not be considered complete without the Chawton visit.
• Visit the great-grandfather’s hometown of Fredrickstadt, Norway. Eat some smoked cod without making a face and offending the locals.
• Read the entire collection of Roald Dahl’s children’s books. Watching the various movies DOES. NOT. COUNT.
• Watch a game at Fenway. Eat a hotdog, even. Jeer the Yankees with a fake Bah-stahn accent.
• Finish that journey to fluency in Spanish. Seriously. I was so close and then, well, I moved to Alaska and haven’t said much more than “hard taco, please” as practice. My bad.
• I’ve got this YA steampunk trilogy brewing in my head and the characters are based on my
• Run a triathlon. I don’t have to win. I just have to finish. Just one. And yes, I have to ride the bike myself. And get up if I crash, which is likely.
• Visit James F. Wright’s grave. Say hello. And goodbye. Never really got to do either and I feel like that’s a chapter in my story that deserves some sort of closure. First step, of course, would be to find the damn thing. Good thing the man who raised me and who I consider my dad
• Visit the great-grandfather’s hometown of Fredrickstadt, Norway. Eat some smoked cod without making a face and offending the locals.
• Read the entire collection of Roald Dahl’s children’s books. Watching the various movies DOES. NOT. COUNT.
• Watch a game at Fenway. Eat a hotdog, even. Jeer the Yankees with a fake Bah-stahn accent.
• Finish that journey to fluency in Spanish. Seriously. I was so close and then, well, I moved to Alaska and haven’t said much more than “hard taco, please” as practice. My bad.
• I’ve got this YA steampunk trilogy brewing in my head and the characters are based on my
kids. Obviously, this is the most important story I have to tell and life will not be considered complete until I get those three stories out into the world, publication or no publication. Tell their stories.
• Run a triathlon. I don’t have to win. I just have to finish. Just one. And yes, I have to ride the bike myself. And get up if I crash, which is likely.
• Visit James F. Wright’s grave. Say hello. And goodbye. Never really got to do either and I feel like that’s a chapter in my story that deserves some sort of closure. First step, of course, would be to find the damn thing. Good thing the man who raised me and who I consider my dad
happened to be very close friends with the brother of the man who is actually the biological father. Small, strange little world, isn’t it? Anyway, that Uncle Larry guy will probably know where his brother is buried and that’s always a place to start.
• Shake Paula Deen’s hand. Don’t laugh. I love her. Like, a lot. Hell, it’s my “list,” I might even hug her!
Good start, eh?
And what about you? Do you have a “list” or do you just sort of make it up as you go?
Have a wonderful weekend. Hug someone special (but keep your mitts offa Paula, ya hear?!)
• Raise a mini-lemon tree. For real, not my version of keeping plants alive for a week before
killing them. I want a lemon tree that lives on and on. I want it to live in a bright, sunny spot in our home and produce real, live lemons. Save me from those godawful plastic squeeze lemons of fakeness at the grocery store.
• Shake Paula Deen’s hand. Don’t laugh. I love her. Like, a lot. Hell, it’s my “list,” I might even hug her!
Good start, eh?
And what about you? Do you have a “list” or do you just sort of make it up as you go?
Have a wonderful weekend. Hug someone special (but keep your mitts offa Paula, ya hear?!)
I think it's a fabulous start! i LOVE and adore your list... it's real... i love it. i would love to read the paper WHEN you write it, as well as your trilogy!
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