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Showing posts with the label forging forward

A Reminder

Ding-dong! This morning Molly the Cat and I were traipsing about in the backyard when the doorbell rang. Molly inspected the perimeter of the yard, making sure all was well, while I checked how much the garlic had grown in its pot. I'd spied a bit of green yesterday morning just before I stepped inside, thinking I'd look for sure when I went back outside. But I didn't go back outdoors. I let melancholy rob the rest of my day. This morning I woke up still not wanting to make an effort. What good is that? I told myself. There are roses that need pruning. I visualized myself getting the pruning shears and small saw out from the shed, as well as the rubbing alcohol or hydrogen peroxide from the bathroom to sterilize the equipment. Okay, up and at 'em. Downstairs, opening the drapes, I noticed the layer of ice on the rooftop next door.  That settled that. I fed Molly her breakfast and made coleslaw. I've found that preparing part or all of our afternoon/ evening meals

The Sky is Not Falling

Although there are moments when it seems like the sky is falling, especially when it comes to our federal government, which seems more so lately with the lack of leadership in our executive and legislative branches. Those currently in power seem hell-bent on funding the Haves and getting rid of the Have-Nots; hence, the folks clinging on to the sinking middle may feel they must choose between siding with the sanctimonious greedy and mighty insecure lackeys or being true to the Good Samaritan messages that our society preaches. Either/or. Frustration abounds. Pitchforks and torches come out. Usually the meek, the kind, the underdog are mobbed first and continually until the growling breaks out among those in power. Or, until enough of the mob breaks lose of the spell of curses it is under and defy the powerful that cast the spell. I suspect that people who hate are scared. But, of what? A loss of property? A world of peace and love? Death? Is it as simple as fearing they will be pu

Onward and Upward!

The Husband is down with a virus so it was not a good rest for us last night. Cough, cough. Toss, turn. You know the drill. He'll be fine, we think positively. Leftover garlicky ginger chicken soup was turned into a pot of garlicky ginger tomato soup this morning, which shall be good for a couple of days before he tires of that kind of soup. He's already on his way to losing weight for the 20-pound loss goal we each set on Christmas day (our present to ourselves) by the end of May. So. Here we are, the end of the year. An outrageous year for our nation, leaderless. Executive actions and congressional duplicity turning us down the path of darkness rather than so-called greatness. I want to think that we've reached the bottom and it's only up now. A lot of us have no problem standing up against harassment, intimidation, lies, misconceptions, ignorance, and down-right bullying. The personal score: A hysterectomy took away the cancer no one was really sure was there. T

Villa Mia

I'm reading Under the Tuscan Sun right now. This is my third start (maybe fourth) in the last 10 years or so. I enjoyed the movie so I bought the book when I saw it on the "buy 3, get one free" table at a bookstore.  I finally got to a point that I don't recall having read. This morning I learned that the fig flower resides inside the fruit and a certain kind of wasp burrows itself inside the fig to lay its eggs. If it doesn't succeed, that's okay, it has at least pollinated the flower. If larvae has been deposited, ooh-la-la! According to Wikipedia (yup, I had to learn more), a mature male mates with a female then proceeds to peck its way out of the fig so that all the females can escape. The male, now wingless and, no doubt, quite spent promptly dies. May he forever rest in joyful peace knowing that he did his job well. Frances Mayes is the author of Under the Tuscan Sun . For those who never read the book or saw the movie, Mayes wrote about her exper

Feeling Free at Sixty-Four!

Yesterday I celebrated my first day of being 64 years old. How did that happen? My body knows I'm old. Probably my brain does, too. I'm guessing all old people say that since I have no guidebook for getting older. Spiritually, I'm that five-year-old wandering in the fields surrounded by tall grass, wildflowers, butterflies, and sun bubbles. I'm also that young thing uncovering worlds and possibilities. I feel, again, a freedom to dream, to discover, and to do!

Timidity, Be Gone

A party has been going on in my head, and it has been rather rowdy at times. We all do need to be rowdy once in a while, but within reason. Within reason.  Who coined that phrase? How long did it take for others to start saying it? Before it was explained in a dictionary? In a grammar book? Is this phrase an idiom? Are idioms even taught anymore? Pshew! See what I mean? A party is going on in my head! Some of you may have thought that my idea of rowdy is making loud and happy noises, and possibly doing a silly prank or two on the Husband. That, of course. Sure. Maybe. Not telling. Giggle.   Rowdy to me is also playing with words and sentences, and thoughts and concepts. Once upon a time 11 years ago I jumped out of a plane. That was not hard at all. If you freeze, like I think I did, your instructor (the professional skydiver to whom you're hooked), merely pushes you over as he falls forward. Me jumping out of the plane (from 18,000 feet up in the air, too, mind you) w

So I Am.

One thing about not being out there, being visible, being noticeable, being memorable. People forget that you're there. Until you're not there and someone asks, "Where the heck is the person who sweated this small stuff?" SO UNFAILINGLY RELIABLE. I'd rather not have that on my tombstone. Shudder. You might as well etch this beneath my name— DRUDGE . Yes, yes, I know that the world can't run without us drudges. Did I say I abhor being a drudge? If I had, I would've done something about it long time ago. I would've taken the other path. Each and every time. I cannot imagine myself as a high maintenance diva. Maybe in a parallel universe I am. Heaven help those people.

Trying Different Things

As I settled back to read a few more pages of a novel around 11 o'clock the other night, after spending an hour or so doodling and drawing sugar canes, peppermint canes, and walking canes, I realized that I was doing different things.  (Canes are not easy to draw, by the way.) I am actually looking for things to do, different things to try because I am. . . giggle . . .retired. There are some things I'm no longer interested in trying . . . hang gliding . . .roller skating . . . hiking the Pacific Crest trail . . .driving a big rig cross country, toot-toot . . .going to Mars Yup, no longer interested in making those dreams come true.  One of the things I have been doing is painting. I did that watercolor in the photo up there. What do you think: Does it remind you of granite mountains? Maybe somewhere in the Sierra Nevada?

Looking for a Fight?

Warning: This is a grumpy story that happened this past summer in front of one of my happy places. The encounter did not sour me on continuing my visits, but for a moment after the event I felt like what's the use of living when people like that guy we met is alive. I was parallel parking into a tight spot in front of the library where a whole lot of children and their parents were lined up in front of the bookmobile. The kids were signing up for a how-many-books-do-I-want-to-read-this-summer type of program. The car in front of me hung over its rear parking mark and the car behind me was nearly up to its front parking mark. As I turned off the engine, the Husband and I heard a very angry "HEY!" We looked over to see a man standing against the building, his arms crossed, glaring at us. "Are you talking to us?" the Husband asked. "You hit my car!" the middle-aged man shouted. "We did not," said the Husband. "We would've hea

Voila! Nothing There.

Until yesterday, that is what the Husband, Molly the Cat, and I saw when we looked out the patio door. Sitting behind the shed was a small chicken coop. Molly loved to climb up the chicken coop, along a plank, and onto the shed's southern eaves to take her nap between breakfast and lunch. For the past year,  the Husband and I have talked about taking down the structures because they were useless. No chickens for the coop (never were!) and if we did have chickens I would rather see them strutting freely (kind of) around the yard. As for the shed, only hobbits would be short enough to stand in it. If, even then. So, why was it built? I don't know, and I don't care to speculate about how it came to be built. When I heard a crow and saw a butterfly as we dismantled the structures, I knew that the Mama liked our decision. It felt good swinging the hammer and being constructively destructive. Pound! Pound! Grunt! Pound! GRUNT! Pound! Pound! The most physical activity

Rustiness

Rusty n ails. Rusty rust. Rusty stringing-words-into-sentences-into-paragraphs-into-stories. I'll get there. Again. 

Seeking Distraction

It's past noon and I haven't done what I said I would do today. But, I did make apple scones for breakfast and went out to the front yard with Molly the Cat to deadhead daisies and pull some weeds. Now I'm writing about it all. All distractions from filling out income tax forms. Doing the taxes should take less than two hours. I already did a first pass last month to get an idea of the damage to our checkbook. So, no big deal, right? I'm listening to the Full Sail album by Loggins & Messina in hopes that it will get me into the mood. Yes, right after I imagine myself snorkeling in Hawaii.  Ah, such pretty fishes.  I'm linking up with All Seasons , a meme hosted by Jesh of Artworks from JeshStG. Click here to check out other participants.

Not a Hysterical Report

If I had written this post several days ago, I may have been called it Hysterical Report . Actually, I thought about renaming this blog to The Hysterical Report . I'm glad I waited. I'd rather not be hysterical about anything. I am on a new adventure. No. I take that back, it's not new. After 12 years, this adventure's path has come into the foreground. It's simply not a good idea to let the grass grow over this path anymore. My in-my-face-but-not-hysterical-adventure is an upcoming hysterectomy. Da-dah! Oh-oh, did I lose you? Come back when you can wrap your head around the concept of a hysterectomy. It took me awhile. I realize it helps for me to write about it. Yesterday afternoon I got a chest x-ray, one of my three pre-op things to do. The other two are an EKG (next week) and several blood tests (a week before the operation). Did you happen to flash on the Operation board game, by the way? Because I did the X-rays in town, I repeated myself a lot to the lab

Just.

When I saw the episode of Grace and Frankie, an original Netflix series starring Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin, in which Frankie (Lily) mentions her diary and Grace (Jane) responds with "Your bullshit diary where you write in the air?", I thought that's how I've mostly been blogging the last 11 months. Unlike Frankie, I mentally write the words. Have you seen Grace and Frankie by the way? In a nutshell it's about two vibrant women in their 70s who suddenly become roommates because their husbands announced they are gay, been having a secret relationship with each other for years, and want a divorce from Grace and Frankie because so that they can married. A mouthful, huh? The series revolve around Grace and Frankie coming to terms with suddenly being on their own after 30-40 years of marriage. It's also about the women becoming each other's main support, although they don't think much of each other's life style. Grace is an uptight former CEO o

Exquisiteness.

With all the current churning of evilness in our country's leadership, we need to take time every day to look for the wonder, the beauty, the eloquence, and the love in our lives and our environment. Call me simple, if you like. Doesn't matter. I have faith that we shall get positiveness, common sense, and humanity back in power again. It's the letter E at ABC Wednesday . To check out ABCW posts from bloggers around the world, please click here . Thanks ABCW Team!

Cheers to a New Calendar Year!

"What got into you?" asked the Husband, looking across the table as I cracked walnuts. "The bananas got browner just like you said would happen," I answered. We bought the bunch of organic bananas yesterday afternoon. I only wanted three bananas, but when I saw that the bananas were a bunch for a dollar, I couldn't bring myself to buy three bananas when I could purchase eight for the same price. Would you? I don't remember if I fully answered the Husband's question. I recall that he went back to checking out Facebook so I must've said that I want the walnuts for making banana bread. Now I think I'll bake scones. Easier. Then I'll freeze the rest of the bananas. I found out I don't even need to peel, slice, or stick them in freezer bags. And when I want to use one or two for baking or smoothies, I simply microwave the bananas for a minute or two. Voila! It's been a good new year so far. I've been very productive, too. Alon

A New Trip

So begins a new adventure around the sun for me. Here I gooooooooooooooooooooooooo. . .

The "H" I Say

The other day I decided to keep a daily Have-Done list. For awhile, that is. Until I no longer need to let myself know that I have accomplished something each day. Every day, I add things to my To-Do list. As you can see in the photo, the items don't always get done right away. Sometimes, not for weeks after I put them on the list. The Have-Done things, so far, were not on my To-Do list. That's okay. They were usually stuff: •  I would've distracted myself to do so I wouldn't do anything on the To-Do list. For instance, dig up a narrow piece of the front lawn to create a new home for a bunch of jade plants that no longer fit in their pots. •  I would've discovered I needed to do before I could do a To-do item, such as clean the freezer in order to start it up again. •  I needed to do that moment because they needed to get done then and there. We needed to pay that water bill, you know. •  I would've eventually put on my To-do list. That would'

X Marks the Spot

"The surgeon will make an incision in my chest." "Do you think it will be an X?" I asked. The Husband laughed. I think he laughed. I'll say he laughed. I want him to have laughed. Tomorrow morning, a surgeon will make an incision in the Husband's chest and install a pacemaker. Yup. A pacemaker.  The results of the remote heart-monitor the Husband wore for two weeks showed that every now and then his heart flat-lines for several seconds. Not good at all. Thank goodness this problem was caught now rather than much later and that there is a ready solution. And, thank goodness we have a proactive doctor who cares for his patients and is willing to make insurance companies authorize things immediately. The Husband is ready as ready can be for this procedure. I cut his hair and trimmed his beard so the surgeon and his team wouldn't get annoyed at all that hair, especially his beard. How much hair? It filled the vacuum cleaner's canister

A Big Old Cheer!

Dear Friends, The Mama, the Husband, Molly the cat, and I have rounded the last bend of the Mama's life journey. As we glide through this last leg, please give out a big cheer, throw a kiss, stomp your feet joyously, clap your hands heartily, or do another whooo-hooo of choice.  The Mama sends you big hugs, kisses, smiles, laughs, and much love. She thanks you very much for being part of her life, whether it be directly or indirectly through the Husband, Molly the Cat, or me. Love, Su- sieee! Mac