My Office

Ninety percent of the time, this is where I am in the morning.  Reporting from Indianapolis's Monument Circle.  We have a studio down there, a plug-in point from outside, and as a result, this is my second home.

New Camera

Got my Christmas present a little early and have been having so much fun with it.  My first DSLR.  A Canon Rebel T3i.

 

Whoa, I baked. 

Christmas Carols

It's Christmas.  If my mom were here, if we were still kids, she'd have this guitar on her lap.  She'd be playing "Must Be Santa," "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," you name it.  And so, because we're now on our third Christmas without her, our third Christmas without the strum of a guitar, and because our family is now welcoming in a new generation with the birth of my niece, I'm bringing it back.  Have been practicing the classics because I want the holidays to be full of music once again.

Also, playing, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" may have made me bust out into tears.  The line, "Someday soon, we all will be together, If the fates allow," did it.

Puppy Love

This morning, after popping a disc out of his camera so I could edit video, Eldon (one of the station's photags) added "There's a little something at the beginning that only you will appreciate."

It was a minute and a half of him chasing his dog around his house with a camera.  It was adorable.  And he's right, I definitely appreciated it.

I also appreciate that I have become know for my love of animals. And can we talk about how cute his dog is?

Johanna

You were born on a cold, rainy Friday.  Your grandma Kathy, your great aunt Jane, Kari (Allison's wedding photographer, now turned birth-photag), and I were spending the night at your parents house, were woken up at 5 am.  A text saying it was about to happen.  I've never seen people move so quickly.  We were all ready and out the door within minutes, straight to the hospital.

And then the wait. I'm sure your mom has her own version of what happened.  For Kathy, Jane, and I, it was sitting eagerly down the hall for about three hours.  I went on a coffee run.  Tried to get some caffeine to your dad and Kari, but your mom wouldn't have it.  She couldn't stand the smell and it was almost time.

Then just before 9 am, a text from Kari: a blurry cell phone photo of your mom and dad looking over you.  You were here! Your grandma, great aunt, and I hugged.  And waited.  An hour later we sent this photo, begging to meet you.

When we finally got a text of approval, I ran ahead.  Skipping to the room where your mom lay holding you, smiling proudly.  "Get in here and feel this," she told me.  Your dad moved aside so I could sit beside you as you nursed. I poked at your skin, stared in awe, and cried.

The next two days were a whirlwind.  Your parents never setting you down.  Someone always holding you.  Your learning to master nursing, trying to let out a good cry, but usually just cooing and scrunching up your face as you got used to the light.

I came and went from the hospital, as did Kathy and Jane.  Folks in town for your Aunt Amy's play (she was on stage Saturday) stopped by to see you too.  Your Uncle Spencer met you Friday night, was with me the rest of the weekend. So many people, so happy to welcome you into the world.

On Sunday, after two days of answering 'not yet' to the 'Does she have a name?' question, your parents announced the news.  Johanna Kimberly.  A perfect name for a perfect baby who is so incredibly loved.

Surprise!

Spencer's 30th birthday was Saturday.  We were already in Chicago for a wedding the day before and decided to stay in the city for the big day.   We went out to lunch and dinner.  Stopped by IKEA.  He closed on his car loan, meaning he now official owns a vehicle! It wasn't a bad day, but it wasn't particularly special.  I held back. Didn't decorate or bake a cake.  Because the big surprise was scheduled for 7:30 pm.

After dinner out with his dad (his mom was celebrating with his twin sister in New York), we came home to a house full of people shouting 'Surprise!'  Spencer's best friends from high school, my aunt and uncle, his sister, roughly 10 people were there, all in sombrero's and fake mustaches.  It was awesome.  So much energy and excitement all for the man I love.  And he definitely appreciated it.  I saw a glimmer of a tear in his eye and he tried to register what was happening after the lights came on.

We drank, ate, played Pin the Tale on the Donkey, whacked a pinata, played Cards Against Humanity, and Spencer got so many thoughtful gifts.  Kudos to everyone who made the night amazing especially his older sister who took the party under her wing and organized nearly every detail.

 

Yes, I dated a skateboarder.

There was a time in my life when I identified as a snowboard, a theater kid, even as a singer.  I was used to being viewed as such too.  And this week, I realized all of that is in the past.  That not only have I changed a lot but the way in which people view me has too.

This realization, from a conversation with a coworker.  I made a reference to the term 'punk.'  How a past boyfriend hated me calling him it, likely because he grew up skateboarding, was used to hearing that term in a derogatory sense.  

"You dated a skateboarder?!" my coworker responded.

And yes, I did.  In fact, two.  Three if you count the fact that Spencer once skateboarded.  The coworker joked that there was a lot about me she didn't know, and I then went on to spout off randomness about my past. I was snowboard instructor.  Van Warped Tour used to be my thing. Making hemp jewelry, my hobby.  It's a part of my life I still sort of identify with, even though I've left it behind.  And everyone I've met in the last five years knows little about it.

So for the last day I've been questioning, who am I?  How do people view me?  I still think of myself as a curly haired snowboarder with a long list of friends and an even longer list of activities.  Who knows every new band before anyone else.  But that's not who I am now. I date a former-skateboarder, who works 9-5, wears a collared shirt. I volunteer some.  I read.  I try to run.  I'm not up on music at all.  And I don't have that many friends.  Or at least new friends. 

Life is different for me now.  Part of growing up, I guess.  And I'm just now understanding how people's understanding of me has changed too. They don't necessarily like me more or less, but their image of me is different.  

Of course, off of that, I can't help but wonder what about my parents have I miss out on?  What don't I get about their 20s, about who they were before they 'grew up'?  And what about every other person I interact with?  They've likely changed a lot too.  Identify themselves in a way completely different than I view them. 

Just thoughts.  

Parvo

Our little Harriette is 6 months as of today.  Texted the man we got her from this morning to ask about her papers.  He said he'd mail them to us months ago.  Turns out he lost our information and was really happy to hear from us, to hear that Harriette is doing well.

Apparently her two brothers, shown below, died of parvo four weeks after they were adopted.  A woman adopted both of them, and after their death revealed this is the third time puppies have contracted parvo from her home.  Really sad.  And it's why today we're even happier than we normally would be to have Harry in our life.  Had the woman seen her first, she totally would have taken her home.

Our Week Away

I've always wanted to visit the northwest and this past week I finally did.  Spencer and I spent Monday through Monday exploring Seattle, Portland, driving the coast, and celebrating the marriage of Corydon, the sister's brother in law, and Kayla.

I don't journal anymore.  Barely blog.  And as Spencer and I sat on the dock to my sister's mother-in-law's home, we both wished we recorded our adventures more often.  That we paused and reflected on what a great time we're having.  Allison does this with Amy regularly.  She lists everything Amy did over a certain period of days so she can recognize that indeed, life is good.  I don't do that enough.

So this entry, just reflecting on some of the memories that will be lost unless I write them down.

I want to remember how the morning we got into Tacoma.  The first morning of our vacation, Spencer had to go to the doctor.  An ear infection, pink eye, and strep throat.  Poor guy.  We went to dinner in Tacoma with Allison, Walker, and Kathy that night and he was so miserable he laid down on the sidewalk in an effort to clear his sinuses.  The next day when we visited Seattle, we made it a point to lie on a blanket in parks twice, for the same reason.

I want to remember how incredibly welcome we felt staying at Kathy's home for the week.  We came home from the doctor that first day to homemade chicken noodle soup.  Were invited to endless family gatherings, and didn't feel out of place.  The last full day as Spencer and I finally took a swim in Gravelly Lake, we even ended up taking a spin around it in Dave and Sarah's (Walker's uncle and aunt) float boat, as they spotted us sun bathing and picked us up.

Gravelly Lake (Lakewood, WA)

Also the awe.  So much awe.  Spencer and I aren't used to homes with pools, hot tubs, tennis courts, and green houses. Lakes so clear you can see the bottom.  We're not used to acres upon acres of beautifully manicured lawns and gardens, and having family so incredibly geographically close (three family homes surrounded the local Tacoma lake).  I'm not in awe often anymore.  There isn't much that gets me excited, even but man, so many times on this vacation I turned to Spencer and said "Isn't this amazing?"

There was the beautiful wedding at Lakewold Gardens, a state historic landmark and the home where Walker's grandmother was raised.  The sparklers shaped like hearts that we held, creating a path for the couple as they left the wedding.  And there was the dancing.  So much dancing.  And Amy, who traveled to Tacoma with two caretakers, was so included.  It wasn't just immediate family dancing next to her wheelchair, but people we didn't know, or had only met once.  And I want to remember how during the mother-son dance between Kathy and Corydon, Amy was invited to join.  Then Allison and Walker joined.  It was touching.  So much so that Spencer teared up.  Before the end of the song, we were part of the dance as well.

Earlier that day, Allison, Amy and I got manicures.  The highlight of which was a Lifetime movie ("The Perfect Spouse") on in the salon about a husband who goes crazy and tries to keep his pregnant wife to himself.  I'm still thinking about it.

And Allison.  Pregnant Allison.  I want to remember that too.  How she tried on a dozen maternity dresses she ordered from Target, and stood in Kathy's living room, trying each on for me as I helped her decide which to keep.  How she kept rubbing and poking her belly, and the excitement around this first little one to the family.

In short, Spencer and I had such an amazing vacation with such an amazing family, who while distantly, if even, related, welcomed us with open arms.  We're home now, back with our three cats, our ever-growing puppy, and back to work.  But we have some amazing memories, I really want to hold on to.

Squirrel.

Spent the past weekend in St. Joseph, Michigan.  Such good times.  Dianne Hardy became Dianne Ott.  Saw so many old friends.  This, however, was my favorite part.  Spencer in a toy store.  I looked over and there he was, wearing a squirrel head.

Breaking News

I've covered a lot of shootings, fires, bad car crashes.  Still when the scanner tips me off to something in the middle of the night, I can't help but get excited.  Jumping in my work car, and heading to a area where I'm bound to see lots of flashing lights, maybe some chaos, gives me a little burst of adrenaline.

As a result, I someone manage to be the first at the scene very often.  Maybe I'm speeding, maybe I'm just really prepared to run out the door.  Probably a mixture.  It doesn't hurt that I'm the one actually listening to the scanners.  I hear news.  I go.  There's no middle man who has to call a photographer and direct them to a scene.

My executive producer calls me 'Batman'.
The photographer at a competing station calls me 'lead foot'.
And today, the police called me an obstruction.  I got to this shooting below too quickly.  Parked too close.  Drove through the crime scene before they had a chance to put tape up.  Ooops.  I was lectured, told not to to it again, and my wheels were then inspected for blood or bullet casings.  Lesson learned.

Finally

I have always wanted one of these. Took six flights last weekend, wishing I didn't have to bunch up my hooded sweatshirt as a pillow. But I refused to spend $20 on something I didn't necessarily need. And then today as we drove home from Chicago it happened, I found a neck pillow for $13. Totally justifiable. Life is complete.

Love It.

I can not get enough of this story.  Have never watched Kitchen Nightmares until now.  But the jist.  Restaurant owners who think they have bad reviews online because people are lying.  They're out to get them.  Just being bullied.  Gordon Ramsey comes in, we learn these people are crazy and serve poorly made food, he tries to help them but can't and gives up.  Now the backlash.  People are actually attacking the couple online, and they can't take it.  They've been fighting back, making themselves sound even more crazy in the meantime.

I've made a point to watch the entire episode online.  I recommend you do too.

Amy in Champaign

My baby is getting big. She now actually opens her mouth (she never used to). So much cuter that way.  And because she still has puppy fur but is noticeably getting bigger, she looks even more like a teddy bear to me.

Took this photo of her yesterday as we drove to Champaign to visit Amy in her new home.

Notice she's wearing a bow.  Her first bow.  And technically Amy paid for it.  It was 45 cents, and I dug through her wallet for change. 

Let's talk about Amy though.  This was my first time visiting her in her new home, and I was impressed.  It's open, has a yard, a back porch, and they welcomed the dog.  None of her housemates were home at the time, but I met staff, who seemed friendly.  I giggled upon seeing Amy's room, which she shares with another person.  There's only one bed in the room.  

"Wait a second," I said "I thought you had a roommate."  

"I do," Amy corrected me, "She doesn't like to sleep in beds."  

Oh, so Amy shares a room with a woman who sleeps in a recliner.  No judgement, just surprised. 

I'm happy for her though.  Happy that she's just close enough that I can technically drive to visit her after work (although I can't do that often, I'm exhausted today), and happy that she's in a home that at least right now, she's proud of. 

New Template

Can't get over how long it just took me to come up with a new template for my blog.  TV news and Cats.  Easy enough.  And really, since starting my job here in Indy, I can honestly say I love TV news once again.

Instagram

So glad Mother's Day is over.  Bah humbug, I know.  But all these nonstop Facebook posts of people my age with their mothers, of people twice my age with their moms, kills me.  This year Facebook even reminded me to send my mother a gift, sending me an alert with her photo.  I guess Mother's Day has become for me, much what Valentine's Day is for those who are single.

In other news, I joined Instagram.  Actually, I joined it a while back but I think I might start using my account now.  So many accounts.  I don't even care about Instagram, and don't know why I plan to start using it.
I mean,  between Facebook (personal and work page) , Twitter, FourSquare, Yelp, RunKeeper, Fitocracy, LinkedIn, Pinterest, GifBoom and whatever else I choose to log in to on a given day, social media is overwhelming me.  That's why I'm taking on another account, of course.

Oh, Harry

Overheard in the Kelly-Forman home: "We're never getting a puppy again."
Also, "The dog woke me up every hour last night," and "Harry pooped (insert indoor location)."

Hungry Dog

More like, ravenous dog.  Took Harriette to the vet yesterday for all her shots and mentioned it.  I told them Spencer and I wanted to feed her more.  We feel like she was always hungry.  Come to find out the vet we visited with last week, when we took Harry in for digestive problems, gave us incorrect directions on the special food she gave us.  We had been feeding her less than half of what she should be getting. Poor Harry, starving since we took her in.  No wonder she's so tired.  Such a lover of food. And managed to lose weight over the last week.  Jeez.

Harriette

That didn't take long.  

Less than a week after losing Zoe, we brought eight-week-old Harry into our lives.  2 pounds of pure Shih Tzu and absolute adorableness.

So much work.  But so far, worth it.

As you can see, she likes to sleep. 

Zoe

Zoe passed on Sunday. Cue the song Spencer and I have been singing since.

 

In all seriousness though, we're hurting at home.  I'm sad because aside from being an amazing dog, Zoe was a piece of mom, a piece of Galena that had been in our family more than 10 years.  Spencer's sad because she was his first dog, the first dog he really bonded with.

In the months before her passing we both bonded with her even more.  She needed three different heart medications two times a day.  I gave her them at 11 am.  Spencer did the 11 pm duty.  Constant pills meant constant treats, and the ability to train my little 'piss monster.'  She learned to sit, to lay down.  Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?  Spencer and I also started crating her when we left the house, making us love her even more as we didn't find surprises everywhere when we returned.

The night before her passing Spencer gave her a bath for the first time.  Wish I had taken a picture of him gently washing her as she stood calmly, looking like a little rat.  In her final day we took her gardening.  So appropriate.  Mom gardened the day she passed too.  She wore her little pink coat from Spencer's mom and sat beside us patiently.   All day Sunday Spencer kept saying 'She's not looking good.'  By midday, she wouldn't eat her treats.  And by 5 pm she was hiding under our bed, ready to die.  Spencer found her, we brought her up to our bed and discussed her breathing, how bad it had gotten, whether we should put her down.  And in the next 30-45 minutes she made the call for us.  Her little tongue hung out further, started to turn blue, and she just laid down.  Soon after she wet our bed, and it was clear it was time.  We wrapped her in a towel and cuddled her, telling her we loved her.  It was really an intimate moment, and more than anything, I'm so glad we were both there for her.

We'll get another dog eventually.  But I want to wait.  I've put her crate by the attic door, along with the little steps we bought so she could hop up on our bed.  I realize she's just a dog.  And I realize, others are mourning for far more important reasons right now.  Just wanted to make note though of her passing.

George

I can't not blog about the passing of George Weyerhaeuser.  Allison's father-in-law.  Walker's dad.  Kathy's husband, and just an all-around good man passed away earlier this week.

I haven't told many people at work but when I mentioned it to one person I said I had a 'death in the family."  Because he was part of my family, maybe distantly, but he was.

Christmas 2012 (Walker, George, Allison, and my dad)

I like this picture of him.  Talking as the photo is being taken.  He was always doing that.

I still remember the first holiday we spent together.  Our family rushing around my mom's house, trying to get ready to go somewhere and George standing by the front door patiently, his fanny pack around his waist, not rushing anyone but clearly ready to go, even though I knew we were nowhere close to heading out the door.  It made me laugh then and still does.  

I'm glad Spencer got to meet him over Christmas.  And of course, I'm glad I had the chance to meet him during his final years. He will be incredibly missed.  

Workin' Hard for the Money

Equal Pay Day is tomorrow.

It's considered the date women's wages catch up to what men earned the year before.  So essentially 16 months worth of work to make the same amount as their counterparts do in 12.  

I've never thought much about the issue.  It seems like one of the issues my best friend from high school would be into her.  She's always cared about women equality.  One year for my birthday she gave me a 'Born in Vagina' shirt.  It's those type of women who care about this stuff, right?  Not me.  Until yesterday.

I got in a 'heated argument' over gender pay discrimination (really it was just an ongoing debate).
I'm still heated about it.  So that means I really care about this issue, right?  Or maybe I'm less concerned about the issue than I am about people acknowledging it.  I think that's it. Either way, acknowledge.  

Amy's Moving On Up

Amy is moving!  To Champaign,  next month.
A new home.  New caretakers.  A new life for here.  It's incredibly exciting.

In celebration, this video again.  Uploaded nearly a year ago as the hunt for a new home brought Amy to a place in the Chicago area, that didn't work out.

Crying at Work

I cried at work on Friday, and it wasn't the first time.
I believe I'm up to three cries at work now.  I don't think I've even cried that much in my personal life lately.

This instance on Friday was sparked by frustration, as it always is.  Frustration that I can't express without tearing up.  As a woman working to be respected and break gender barriers (I'm the only female doing camera work at the station), these tears don't suit me.  But somehow they're always there.  Whenever I have a point to get across, or a complaint to bring up.

I'm pretty sure I've cried at every job I've had.  At least every professional job, which is where it's especially appropriate, right?

My boss pulled me into her office as I fought back tears on Friday.  Told me I'm doing great, asked what's really bothering me.  It was a nice talk.  I even expressed to her how much I hate my inability to hold back tears.  It undermines my opinion further.  She told me just to wait.  That down the road when I have kids, when there are bigger issues in front of me on a personal level, the stuff that's getting to me at work won't even matter.  Not that it shouldn't she said, but it just won't.

So now I wait.  To stop taking work so seriously.  And to learn how to care about work without crying about it.

One year.

At this time last year, I was sleeping.  Oh, the joys of an overnight shift.
But in all seriousness, at this time last year I was single.  Fresh off a breakup.  Living in Chicago.  And working in radio.
At this time last year, I also met Spencer.

After a day of running around downtown, turning stories for a radio station that no-longer exists, I opted to go to the Chicago Reader's Anti-Valentine's Day Party at the Logan Square Auditorium. A couple of my friends, already in relationships, were headed there.  I went alone, got there way before them, and made random conversation with Ashley, Spencer's sister.  She then introduced me to him once he came inside from a smoke-break (a year later that habit is long gone).

I love this picture because if you look closely you can see Spencer and I during one of our first conversations.  We're in the lower left-hand corner.

We spent the rest of the evening chatting.  Left together and said our goodbyes on the train.  The next morning as I trudged to work, he text me.  Funny, I still remember where I was sitting and how much I smiled to hear from him.

Anyway,  I'm feeling sappy today.  Not because it's Valentine's Day but because a year ago I met this great guy who is now a major part of my life.  

Wear Red Day

It's national Wear Red Day.  A day to raise awareness about women's heart health.  About heart disease, which kills more women than all forms of cancer combined.  Interestingly, while heart disease takes the life of 1 in 3 woman, apparently only 1 in 5 think they are at risk.  I know I'm at risk, at least with the weight I've been carrying. So I'm happy to say on this 'heart healthy' day, I've been doing something about it.  I've lost ten pounds since the beginning of the year.  Weight Watchers and working out.  It makes reporting all these heart disease statistics on our morning program today a little less scary for me:)

Family Plan

Spencer has needed a new phone since we met, which by the way, was nearly a year ago.  This past weekend, he finally got a phone that will hopefully hold a charge and with which he can get signal.  This because he change providers and joined my plan.  Yes, we now have a family plan together.  He and I didn't think much about it until we were signing the agreement.  A two-year agreement.  Spencer looked up at me when the salesman mentioned it, which made me laugh, and I totally called him out.  But we decided, eh, two years.  We've got that.  For sure.

So family, friends, plan on seeing him around for a while.

Crafts and the Cold

This old home Spencer and I live in has been cold this winter.  Just found out that's largely because our furnace has been clogged up and barely working, but the other problem, drafts.  I made this draft-stopper to help.  It reminds me of a red one my grandma had back in the day, and is, well, adorable!