Clematis

I think it may have. They just called me, asking me to come in tomorrow to talk about the position. I imagine this is will be a job offer and talking about salary. We made an appointment for tomorrow morning at 8:30. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I wasn't sure at first it that was the thing to do - I was just too anxious not to do it. So now I need to figure out how to do a salary negotiation...I have some data. I have a friend who is teaching in the graduate school psychologist program in Flagstaff - at NAU. Maybe he'll have some ideas.

I still don't know anything about the job. But Monday I had a call from a woman about a great opportunity in Flagstaff for contract work; we have been communicating since April and she is very interested in hiring me for contract work, because of my dual credentials and length and breadth of experience in both. I told her that I am hoping to hear very soon about the job in Cottonwood, and she said she would wait for me. Then I called the Cottonwood school district and relayed this to them - that I would much much rather have the position in Cottonwood than contract in Flagstaff, but I don't want to pass up the work in Flagstaff if Cottonwood is not going to hire me. It doesn't seem fair for me to pass up another good opportunity if they are not going to hire me. And if they are going to hire me, they should let me know. It has been over two months...that seems like a long time. I talked to two of my school psychologist buddies and they both thought it was good for the school district to know that someone else really wants me. Maybe it will help them to hurry up a bit. I hope so!

Thanks, Kay. I think you're right. I also have all of my "working files" from the students I evaluated - my own notes and copies of things that are in the files at the D.O. This is rather significant; the materials are confidential and should either be filed in a locked cabinet in a locked room in the psych's office at the district, or shredded because I am not coming back. They are in limbo cluttering up my little condo because I am in limbo. But they know I have all that stuff. I guess I have to keep it together and wait. One of the women from the SpEd office gave me an enormous clock that had been discarded into her garage. It came with her house and was not something that she ever picked out. It runs great with a new battery, and I plan to paint a pink Hibiscus bloom to go on the clock face and to put some fabric behind the open parts that goes with the clock painting. It's really big - about 28" square. I think it will be really beautiful all flowered up. I have to cut a special piece of paper to get the right size, and am waiting for it to get warm enough to open up the bloom I intend to paint. I was just out watching it open as I stood there. That's good. It will keep my mind off the internal whirring for awhile...

Thanks, Marty! This is an entirely new thing, inspired by the clocks and watches I have found in my father's house and garage, having belonged to my father, his father, and my mother's father Jack. I think I inherited the "clock bug". I had no idea there was such a thing, but apparently there is, like train guys. My clock bug just woke up. I think my dad and my grandfathers would be pleased. Or that they are pleased. Anyway, my house has an increasing amount of tick-tocking, bong bong bonging, swinging pendulums and swishing second hands. It's kind of soothing...

This is a little tiny clock...it was a Barbie clock that I found in a thrift store for 69cents. I photoshopped a picture of Lena onto a pink Hibiscus and had it printed. Then I took the clock apart, pulled off the hands, punched a hole in the photo, put the hands back on and put the face back on. The other is made from a cat card I found at a thrift store and the butterfly is a pin that I found at another thrift store. The gold clock in the first video is made from an 8x8" photo album I found at a thrift store. I pulled out the pages, drilled a hole in the front, added some brass screws and washers for spacing, and stuck a clock mechanism in the middle. The black and green one is made from a paper mache craft box with a cat cutout I made from a mattboard scrap. I glued it all together, painted it out with house paint samples, and such a clock mechanism inside the box and hands on the face. IMG_3418.m4v

Here is another clock, featuring Lena. IMG_3395.m4v

It is so hard to not obsessively worry about my job. Or at least I think it's my job. It seems like so long since they interviewed me - nine days and no word. Of course four of those nine days were weekend days, one was an interview day when they were interviewing a bunch of people, and two of them the primary guy making the decision was at his other district. That only leaves three days. That is probably not really that much time, but I have no idea what is reasonable. I keep imagining them calling me to tell me that they offered it to someone else, who spent some time considering the offer before finally accepting it. Meanwhile I am trying not to panic, sorting through my dad's stuff that came from his house, continuing his projects, and making clocks. I have also been going through some of his watches. Some of them I remember so clearly on his wrist...others are old pocket watches that probably belonged to his dad or even granddad, but no longer run. I have gradually been taking them to the neighborhood watch/clockmaker and having him tell me about them and testing them with new batteries. I miss him so much, every day in many ways. Right now it would be really nice to have the safety net he provided, even though I am likely to be ok even if I don't get this job. I feel and him around me, encouraging me about the job, little comments about the clocks and watches...I guess I have to wait and not lose my cool... Meanwhile I'll post pictures of some of my clocks... IMG_3389.m4v

It's been a week since my interview. Is that an inordinately long amount of time? The Special Ed director, who ultimately makes the decision works in two districts, the one where I am applying Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays; and another district on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. I know he is also hiring a bunch of Special Ed teachers and that takes priority over the school psych. That could take awhile...or maybe I'm just dreaming and this really is taking much longer than it would if they wanted me. Maybe this means that they offered it to someone else and are waiting for a reply, while keeping me on the string in case the first choice says no. Or maybe they're just busy and a week is not really all that long...

Lena is like the queen...she doesn't need to handle cash directly. Her staff is expected to turn the money into chicken, tuna, a climate controlled dwelling and so on... Lena's character - the cat she is playing in the movie - is named "Boodle" Someone involved with the move used to have a cat by this name. I looked up boodle and found that it is slang for "money", having come from a Dutch word "boedle" which means property or estate. So Lena and I are having a crash course on "Boodle" so she learns to respond to it

Patty, sorry to hear about your business. That's tough and I am sorry that you went through all of that. But, welcome to Arizona and I wish you the best of luck here! Maybe some of your pasta can make it up to Sedona...we need some good pasta to go with the views

Lena, my precious therapy cat, is going to be in a movie. One of the owners of a local pet store and animal rescue recommended her to a local film crew and they called me on the phone asking for Lena, who like any movie star does not answer the phone herself, but has her agent do it, and only get her on the phone if it is of interest to her. Interesting that the call came yesterday, as I was cleaning out the last things from my dad's house with the help of two good friends. One of them, Greg, is a movie cameraman who works as much as possible but it's somewhat intermittent. He got a call about a job in New Mexico about the same time. Totally unrelated, but interesting. So today, Lena had her audition for the movie, which she passed with flying colors, and meanwhile Greg is shooting in New Mexico. This is Lena's first paying gig. It's pretty cool...but I always knew she was a star =^. .^= Something to celebrate...

No...not cheating anyone, although it would have been very easy, and not even cheating really. At the end of his life - during the last year - he said over and over that he had changed his mind and was going to give me everything. Every time I would say, "No you're not". I was afraid that he would do this and my sisters would never speak to me again. Eventually I realized that he was very unlikely to do anything like that without my help because at that point he forgot appointments, forgot to even make appointments, and just forgot to do a lot of things if he wasn't reminded - a lot. In order for him to leave me everything, I would have had to remind him repeatedly and probably had to drive him there as well. And I was right - left to his own devices, he left things as they were.

Thanks Kay. Tis true...I have carefully gone through everything. My sister (the younger one who primarily sees dollar signs-or the lack thereof) was astonished that I was still going through things. But I have found treasures along the way. Some of them are worth money, some are precious and sentimental, and others are puzzles and make me wonder about why he had this or that, whose they were originally, and so on. Some of these questions I have found answers to, and others will probably stay mysteries. I have also found answers to things I never understood because he wouldn't talk about them when he was alive. I realize now that he had struggles I was unaware of or that he totally denied. I continue to find deeper understanding and meaning in his life and in the relationships of my family and ancestors as I have sifter through things. My sisters did not want to help, but I think part of the reason for that is that they really didn't want any of his stuff - other than some item or another that had particular value. My family - but particularly my mother's side, had sufficient income to acquire and hang onto a lot of nice things. There were also several generations who seemed to never throw anything away. So, even when things were divided between several children, there were still plenty to go around. My sisters had a fair share of family treasures and mementos. My dad said when he moved out west - from a big house to a small condo - that my two sisters had probably 3/4 of the family stuff. He commented that my 1/4 was probably the best part because it was what he hand-picked to bring with him, but I would have to wait. My sisters also were given tons of stuff over the decades before because they were close by and I was across the country. So, I don't feel like they were cheated out of anything. I have had about four nights of barely sleeping and feeling exhausted from it. I figure that is somehow related to the house closing... My dad's gorgeous rosebush had one remaining bloom on it and I thought yesterday that I would cut it off and take it home with me. But as I reached up with the loppers, the petals fell off in a shower around me...

Thanks, Marty. I have no idea what to do. I think maybe it's just what it is. I have been saying goodbye to his house for 17 months, during most of which I was also worried that I wouldn't have enough time to get his things - and mine - out in any organized way, or that it would be such an upheaval to get things out in a rush that it would cause some other disaster. But as it turned out, I had almost three weeks to finish moving out after the school year ended, and had the luxury of letting things stay more or less as they were and really focus on doing a good job on my contract work with the school district to improve my chance of getting a real job there for next year. I still have plenty to do. All of his things are out of his house, but my house and garage are stuffed and there is also a ton of stuff in a storage unit and some in my neighbor's garage to pick through and resolve in some way so that by next school year my house is more of a functional dwelling without boxes and bags of stuff everywhere. I am in hopes that it will be easier to sort through those boxes of papers, photos, mementos, etc. - now that they are in a more neutral territory. It was hard to get rid of things from my dad's house, but I am hoping that in the context of massive clutter in my house it will be easier to figure out what should go.

Well, it's a done deal...the house is empty and no longer belongs to me or my dad. It belongs to my friend Greg's uncle, and that's good. But no longer mine...

Thanks Kay. I really appreciate your thoughts about this. I am still at my house - haven't even gone down to his house - and I can barely swallow. It's like you said, losing the home you could come to and walk into. This wasn't my childhood home, but actually of all the places my parent(s) ever lived, this was the most open and welcoming to me. And it's about to be gone. Why would anyone think I would be eager to unload that as quickly as possible? Nevertheless, I have had 17 months with his empty house to process my feelings and pick through my past and family history. There are still unexplored pockets - boxes and drawers that I brought along unopened - that I will still go through at my leisure. But the house - today is the last day. Fortunately, my friends Greg and Bonita are both helping me for the day and that will help me get through it.

My dad's house closes tomorrow and it will no longer be mine in any way. People keep telling me that I should feel very relieved, that it will be good for me, that now I can finally have closure, and so on. Closure? Relieved? How do those words even fit into this picture? How do people come up with this stuff? I think they want to say something and just have no idea. Does one really have to have a master's degree to be able to say "How do you feel about that?" or some other variation of that when they really have no idea. I feel like I can't breathe and it's hard to swallow...I thought I was used to the finality of his death and that he really is no longer among the living, but this is another enormous loss. I have dragged my feet through the entire process of moving back to my own condo and the disposition - or moving - of his property. This last week I have felt just as paralyzed as I have all along when I have been at his house alone. I cannot really get anything done alone when I am alone there. Even now. I have lived in my condo for twelve years and after the first six or eight months his house was there, and he was in it for most of that time. And now it's all gone? I still feel him with me and his stuff is all crammed into my condo with me and my stuff, but it seems so bizarre to have only my condo in this little neighborhood. All those years there were two - mine at one end and his at the other. Me in my little condo and him in his mirror image of my condo. And all of that is gone...

Thanks, Kay! Something interesting happened yesterday. I ran into Amy, the school psychologist that I was covering for last year while she was on maternity leave and then when she came back as a busy new mom. It is her position that I am applying for, since she left. We were talking about some things related to the district and its email. She told me that they had locked her out of her school email since she is not coming back. I checked my school email this morning and they are still sending me stuff, like someone who is still working there. Then I logged into the system that has all of the confidential special ed info - where we write our MET report and the SpEd teachers write their IEP's. Still good. And they allowed me to keep my keys to the building and office that Amy and I shared last year. This would be my office if I am hired. I hung a dozen or so paintings there that were done by me, my sister, and my mother. I asked the principal if I could keep the keys...I didn't want to take the chance of damaging the artwork by moving it - always a risk - particularly if there was no need because I would be there next year. I told him that if I was not hired, I would come in, pick up the paintings, and return the keys; and if I was hired I would come and bring more paintings and other stuff. He said "Oh sure, that's fine". I reported all this to the SpEd secretary when I checked out for the end of the year - that I still had the keys to that school. She said "Oh yeah, that's fine - that's between you and that school". I was just relieved that I didn't have to risk damaging the artwork - or having to figure out where to put it! But now that I think about it...well who is so casual about someone who is not a continuing staff person? Leaving me with keys, computer access, etc? I think they all know this is a done deal. I will be surely happy and relieved when I have a contract in hand, but this is good...

Thanks! It's hard to imagine that they would hire someone else other than me...I am very qualified and they know and like me. I will feel better once I have an offer and contract in hand, but it looks better than good. It's kind of hard to believe. Things have been so difficult for so long now, losing my job in 2009, doing that long drive out to the reservation for years, always worrying about where I would be working the following year, watching my dad go downhill and ultimately losing him, the grief compounded by my sisters' horrible reaction, the car accident and almost a year of recuperation while I drove all over the northern part of the state working and taking classes to finish my Associate's.degree in Fine Arts, and dealing with my dad's estate and possessions. It's kind of hard to believe that I could be living in one house with one job, pursuing my hobbies in my spare time and not being out of my mind with worry over what would happen to me next. I have this feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I think that is a common reaction to repeated stress events. I have lived under a cloud of impending doom for so long, even while continuing to take positive steps to take care of things and move forward. It's kind of hard to believe that my life could be other than a string of losses, fear and painful events. But I think that is actually what is happening. It isn't that I am getting lucky or getting a windfall...I have worked very hard for everything I have but haven't always seen the results that should have been there. I think I am about to...

My interview went really well and hopefully I'll hear something very soon. I went home after the interview and wrote a thank-you letter, in time to get it to the post office before it was picked up; it should be at the district in the Monday morning mail. Not much to do now but wait and see...

Today I signed the paperwork for my dad's house closing (on Monday June 5), and my interview for my dream job is tomorrow morning at 9:00am. I'm going to drive to the interview in my dad's old Mercury Grand Prix. It's like driving a big comfy chair...

That's what it seems like to me. I'm not really pursuing other work or following up on the leads I have for contract work. I've been thinking about my office, what to put on the walls and a clock for my desk...my mini trampoline would fit in there nicely, and maybe an exercise bike from my dad's garage. Exercise is the best way to wake up your brain, and it only takes a few minutes, whether you are a student taking psychological tests or the school psychologist writing reports and trying to stay focused while working alone all afternoon. My new neighbor is a quilter and serious about sewing; we have been talking about making some wallhangings out of quilting fabrics. The office is really the size of a small classroom. I'm trying to not get carried away until I have a contract in my hand. But I think it's on its way. Yesterday I was sitting here at the table that was my dad's and in my mother's family since the 1830's, writing reports. I had a very strange sense of calm swimming around me. Wouldn't it be amazing to just live like that - focused on doing a great job at my work without an undercurrent of worry and anxiety flowing below somewhere about the future...

I talked to the special ed director with the school district where I am trying to get a job, this morning, and asked him about the school psych job - when he might be doing interviews and all that. He said he wouldn't be doing them until after last day of school, which is May 22. He also said "I can't just tell you you have it because I have other people I need to talk to him." Amy the school psych who's position I'm applying for told me on the DL that "other people" means one late applicant - the only other applicant other than myself, a guy from Prescott who has made it clear that he wants a lot more money then they're going to pay, and he apparently is applying for other positions in Prescott and Phoenix, where they do pay considerably more then Cottonwood and Sedona do. Amy also said that it's really late in the school hiring season, and it's very unlikely that they'll get other applicants at this point. Sounds good to me!

Thanks, Kay. You are right. I am finally down to the last days with my dad's house - 23 of them - and I don't have to give them up. All this time has gone by and I have always had all kinds of pressure breathing fire down my neck - the memorial, my sisters, work, the prospect of no work and having to fight for my future ability to work while healing from a head injury. And now it's down to the end. I remember so clearly after he bought that condo. He bought it in the spring of 2006 and I spent that summer waiting for him and lovingly painting the garage, removing stuff from the walls, picking out colors, prepping, painting, applying sand to the paint on the floor so he wouldn't slip and fall out there. And all the while I fretted that maybe he would never make it out to his new home in the west, even though we talked on the phone a lot - like two or three hours a day. I was really trying to give him a lifeline to survive the loss of his wife, my mother. And out he came. We had a decade together. It seems like last week that I stood out in that lovely garage in an empty condo. But it was ten years and so much happened in that time. And now I have 23 days to finalize my days with his house. The blooming jasmine is perfuming the front and his beloved rosebush is blooming out back - I have eight baby offspring that were propagated from her over the last year in gallon pots... 23 days to finish that phase of grief...I have a few reports to complete in the next week, but other than that I have nothing else I really need to do but focus on his house and what is left. It is my time and I feel rather possessive about all 23 of them and don't want to give a one of them to anyone. Except today. Today I am going up to Flagstaff and play the cello in the woods with my friends. It's one of the two annual campouts for the Flagstaff Friends of Traditional Music, and I'm not up to camping in the cold right now but I'm going to go up for the day and into the evening. And after that I will proceed through my other 22 days in the way that works out for me...then I will have two months to hopefully relax and prepare for my new job. I really really hope they do hire me. The office I would/will work in is already decorated -or partly so - with paintings by my mother, my sister, and me. Someone observed, "It's a family art gallery!" It will be hard if I have to move out instead of continuing to move in. I suppose I'll know soon enough...

I spent some time with my new neighbor and she told me to not let him push me around or even be worried that he is going to push me around. I don't need it. She's right.