A few weeks ago Saturday Night Live featured a video about two women talking about their hobbies. Oh my gosh,  I recognized myself. When I was a young single thing living la dolce vita in San Francisco, a guy I met for coffee asked, "What are your hobbies?" "Hobbies?" "Interests. What do you like to do?" Totally stumped, I was. I liked to read and write, but I didn't consider those activities as hobbies. They were simply a part of what I did.  Without trying, in the last three years, I've embraced hobbies. Sewing, drawing, painting, gardening, and crafting are what have showed up at my door, thus far. That guy at the cafe 40 years ago? I never saw him again. SO, MOLLY DID The other day I didn't feel like folding the pieces of fabric I laid out on the bed in L Studio. It wasn't going to bother me if Molly the Cat felt like lying on top of the fabric. I told her so, too, before I sat down to contemplate how much of the vari

Thirteen years ago, I would've replied "Nooo. Really?" should future me had reached into the time spectrum to tease me about my today. Never ever would I have thought 13 years ago that I would actually do these things. One. Taking 15 years for us to move the Husband's parents' belongings from a rented storage locker to our garage. Two.  Buying artist's and crafter's paints. Three. Tending to all sorts of flowers on what was once Mama's lawn.  Four. Mulling over the possibilities for curtains I'll sew for the bedroom, L Studio, and living room windows.  Five. Interrupting a task to play Scrabble with the Husband, and knowing that I'll finish the task when we're done with the game.  Six. Painting a mural. Seven. Being told by a specialist that he can't straighten my leg. Crooked? That was news to me. Eight. Receiving my social security benefits! Nine. Being loved by Molly the Cat. Ten. Meeting many ki

Oh-oh, it's the 20th. I wrote December 19 on all the forms this morning at my Hello, Welcome to your Medicare Advantage Plan appointment, as well as later at the laboratory. On the lab forms, I caught myself writing 2019. Hahaha, I wonder if I did that on the doctor's forms as well. The appointment was my official introduction to senior citizen health questions. Very different types of questions. This particular Medicare Advantage plan wanted to make sure I'm not feeling alone and lonely, nor chronically sad or depressed. They also asked questions to determine if I have my mental faculties, including asking me to write in the digits on a faceless clock and draw hands to show 11:10. I had no problem with the questions, but, I wonder if they'll take points off because I wrote the wrong date. hee-heee. I'm actually feeling quite euphoric because of my positive experience. 1. All the healthcare practitioners and support staff I met were friendly and helpful i

I felt like an old lady as I climbed the stairs a few hours ago. Old lady, pooped, that is, because of my busy morning playing in the yard, starting with a new plant called Kangaroo Paw. Don't you just love that name, Kangaroo Paw? The Husband and I bought it yesterday, along with Jupiter's Beard, Sedum Album, and Wonga-Wonga Vine. Don't those names simply appeal to your silliness?  Jupiter's Beard. Kangaroo Paw. Sedum Album. Wonga-Wonga Vine.  They ought to be featured in a poem or song. Anyone want to try? I'm being distracted by what's coming out of the Husband's computer: the King Earl Boogie Band performing "... I've got my Plastic Jesus riding on the dashboard of my car..."  The Mama kept a plastic Jesus-on-the cross on Eliza Do-alot's dashboard, which we think still rests in Eliza's glove compartment. Drats. Where was I? We're supposed to have a few more days of rain, starting tomorrow, which is why I spent the mo

Ha-haaah! Two days ago marked one full year of posting every day on this blog. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much. Last October I was feeling quite aimless.  Within two years, the Mama died of old age, the Husband got a pacemaker, and my reproductive system, along with a bit of cancer, was cut away. Yes, I had an excuse, if I needed one, to feel aimless.  Except I didn't want to feel aimless, which for me could lead to digging a deeper crevice in which to fall. So, I committed myself to this blog. Post every day I told myself. Original posts, preferably. On wordless days, I looked in my archives for something to share. One year later, do I still feel aimless? Buzzed is more like it. Buzzing like a bee flitting from one flower to the next. My flowers are artsy and craftsy repurposing rojects of all manner. Fun projects are revealing themselves to me, left and right. What to do? Which to attempt first? I also want to finish reading Anne Perry's Dark Tide Risin

Have I already mentioned that I am in a painting frenzy at the moment? Rocks, warped boards, planter pots, dishes, and whatever else comes into my vision when I have leftover paint on my brush and and plate. Waste not, want not is me. I mention it, again, if I have, because there is a three-foot metal rice dispenser outside waiting for me to finish painting. So, not much chatting from me today. Would painting something a day keep the doctor away? I'm good for months, if that's so.

I can't stop now. There are 1,000 jigsaw puzzle pieces sitting on our dining table. When all the pieces interlock, we'll have a 24x30-inch picture of a tapestry of a mosaic cat. Gahhh! I've turned every piece then grouped them according to color and design. Yeah, I impressed myself too with such organization. lol And, I have one edge complete. Do you think I could quit now? Committed, I am. haha A friend gave us this puzzle about three or four years ago. Our excuse for keeping the puzzle box shut is the lack of sufficient space. Surfaces don't stay clutter-free for long in this house. Last week I got a very strong yen to assemble a jigsaw puzzle. Some of you may recall I've forbidden myself to do online jigsaw puzzles. I tell you there are moments I'm on the computer when I'm sooooo tempted, then I think "Live long and prosper". If you're curious about all that, read this past post . The Husband probably wished he hadn't agre

Today I'm playing hooky. Yes, I'm retired, but even retired people need to play hooky from everyday routines. For me that has meant, so far, sleeping in until 10 a.m. (I don't recall the last time I did that when I wasn't sick.) and watching TV while I ate my breakfast of black coffee and Brie slapped between two slices of sourdough bread. The Husband eventually moseyed over to the living room with his second cup of coffee and plopped on the couch. He was content with me clicking the remote. We ended up watching Kitty Lynne Klich paint her interpretation of a photograph of an Italian scene. I thought it fascinating how she mixed colors and applied light and dark hues to get what she wanted. At some point of watching Kitty, Molly the Cat sashayed by. She looked perplexed. Why were we sitting in the living room in the morning? Why is the TV on? Why is Missus Lady sitting in Hero Man's seat and Hero Man is hers?  Is that Brie I smell on your breath Missus Lady

"How do you get brown?" asked I, standing outdoors at the patio door. "Mix green and blue," responded the Husband, washing dishes about 20 feet away. As I walked back to my temporary work table beneath the Miracle Tree, I realized I would have to first mix blue and yellow to get green. Sigh. Several hours later, when the Husband stopped, I showed him the rock I was painting. "The brown looks like dirt." Accomplishment achieved! Today is Our World Tuesday , where I'm participating. Here's the link . Grazie, OWT administrators.

The other day someone asked me what do I do now that I don't spend 24/7 on the computer writing and doing research. A whole lot of nothing was my answer. The better answer, I realize today, is a whole lot of experimenting with stuff, such as plants, crafts, sewing, baking, drawing, writing, reading, and whatever comes my way. So, today, I show off last night's results of my experimenting with the markers I purchased on a whim earlier this month. Lucky for me there happened to be a box of crayons nearby so I didn't have to get off the couch.

This summer actually feels like the summers from when I was a kid allowed to do whatever I wanted (within reason) after all my chores were done. The days go by fast doing nothing. How fortunate am I.

This afternoon, the Husband and I were walking in town when I made eye contact with a man walking onto the sidewalk. He smiled. I said, "Hello." "Hello," said he. "Do we know you?" I asked. He looked familiar. "No." "Oh, well happy Tuesday." "Happy Tuesday to you." "It's Monday," said the Husband. "It's Tuesday," I said. "Monday, I think," said the man opening the locked gate to a bank parking lot. "You're starting to confuse me." "Oh, yeah, I was at the museum this morning," I said to the Husband. Lately, I've been volunteering on Monday mornings at our local historical museum. Helping catalog donated items, I am. "Yes you were," said the Husband. "Ah, it's Monday." I looked back at the man who we didn't know him even though he looked so familiar. "Have a good one." "You, too," he said t

I was about to write that I'm late today with my post, but then I thought, that's not true. Yes, I am doing a personal challenge of posting everyday until sometime in October. No, I don't have a given time to post my daily blah-blah-blah. Well, there is 11:59 p.m. Yes, there is that. This morning I thought this is a contender for the Husband's and my motto: We are old. We are retired. So what if we're a little late.  Giggle. 

Numero Uno: My knees feel stronger, especially the right one. I'm walking a bit longer, not necessarily further, especially if the surface has some give to it. My legs likes walking in sand. A friend suggested that I create a small sandbox and march in it. I just might. The geranium room in the backyard would be the perfect place for it. Numero Due: I want to learn a new language. Maybe The Husband will get in on the idea. It would be fun talking to each other in Italian or Latin (those are my preferences right now). Not to say good mental exercise for our brain. What do you think The Husband ? Numero Tre: I shall wash the kitchen floor this afternoon.  It's on today's agenda, but that doesn't necessarily mean I will do it. By also proclaiming it here, methinks I'm reinforcing the objective. Ha-ha. There's also the fact that I'm waiting for The Husband to finish washing dishes and move the chairs to the hallway. The latter is something I put on his

My window of opportunity to not be a procrastinator is about two hours, which is between getting out of bed and the sound of the Husband grinding coffee beans for breakfast. I like to use that time for working in the yard, front and/or back. This morning, for instance, I began with watering the volunteer vegetables—two zucchini plants, one bean plant, four or five tomato plants, and another four or plants that have yet to show themselves as really being tomatoes.  That done, Molly the Cat (the supervisor, as many of you know) and I moseyed to the front yard. Because the Husband will be watering it this afternoon my goal was to sow sunflower seeds here and there, as well as put the geranium plants that we bought last week into the ground. The geraniums took my attention first. Just in time, too. Their leaves had begun to wither. Before I could plant them, I had to rake the dried leaves and pull out weeds out of their new home. Spent poppies were also removed which meant snapping o