In my mind, I'm five years old having a high old time wandering and wondering. In reality, I'm now in my late 60s, wowza! I tell you a lot of creativity is still to be found in this old young self. In you, too, whatever your age. Welcome to my barefoot world!
It was the sweet hour of the sun heading home. I stood in L Studio, my back to the window, taking advantage of the still bright natural light. La, la, la. I snipped away at a strip of red card stock to fit in a discarded book's hanging-for-dear-life spine. I wanted to fortify the spine before sewing in my own page signatures to make an art journal. Fun. La, la, la. . . . Bzzz. What the heck? Bzzzzzz. Louder. Bzzzzzzzzzzzz. And louder. BzzzZZZZZZZZZ. Over my head and around to my back. BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. I turned and stepped to the window. Striding around the corner of the house and towards the window was our neighbor to the north, his leafblower strapped to his belly like a weapon. I recognized him instantly. What was he doing here? How did he get in the backyard? Our neighbor is a law enforcement officer. Was something wrong? We locked eyes immediately. Neither of us seemed that much surprised to see each other. "Your husband said a lot of dust blew over to your side when
1. Breathe. 2. Breathe, again. 3. Breathe deeper. 4. Breathe even deeper. 5. Inhale slowly. 6. Exhale slowly. 7. Close eyes. 8. Inhale slowly, exhale slowly. 9. Think of my happy place. 10. Bathwater-warm Pacific Ocean. 11. Bright, lively, colorful fish. 12. Sun bubbles. 13. Peace. Thursday 13 . Click on the link and check out other bloggers' list of 13.
I finally got around to sewing face masks, two for the Husband and two for me. I only had one oopsie. The photo shows a collage of mask #5. :-) I followed a pattern with straps, using bias tape to make the ties. The oopsie mask was made with elastic. Elastics elude me. The elastic straps were like rubber bands. The mask flung forward each time the Husband or I put it on. The Great Elastic Escape. Molly the pinky-nosed (wild) Cat likes to nap on the love seat in front of the patio window these past weeks. When summer comes, she'll scarf her last bite of breakfast, jump off her table, and scamper out the patio door, to come back for lunch or to use her litter box. And, sometimes she'll wander back in to check on her humans. Sweet girl, her. Today I sat beside Missy, gazing out the window with her. I got to wondering how the world looks to her. Does she see the same thing that I see? Perhaps the world looks like this. More than likely Molly w
1. We went to see the Husband's doctor for his quarterly visit. Mostly good news, hurrah! According to the doctor's scale, the Husband and I lost 4 to 5 pounds since we last stood on that scale. Me, a month ago. Him, I don't know when. The doctor was impressed that the Husband lost 13 pounds in three months, something like that. I may have lost about 10 pounds. Pretty good for us not trying. 2. We want and need to lose weight. Him, maybe 10 more and me, far more. We aren't making a big deal about eating more of this, less of that, and none of the happy yummy stuff. We eat what we want, including potato chips and ice cream, and, as one doctor said to me long ago, be mindful about how much we consume in a sitting. 3. Years ago, friends in their 60s told us that they find themselves eating less as they aged. Their appetites were great and they enjoyed food, willing to try different cuisines. (They were foodies way before foodies came into fashion.) So, I guess that
What's a handshake? What kind of unsaid agreement is made when we shake hands with each other? Why do some men still find it odd to shake women's hands? And, is it just older men? Last Saturday, The Husband and I met up with good friends Missus and Mister H at the two-buck senior brunch hosted by the local hospital volunteer group. As the brunch was winding down, a bunch of handshaking was going on. At our table, the first person to shake hands with The Husband and Mister H was a city mayoral candidate. After he shook the guys' hands, I held mine up for a shake which startled him. He quickly hid it and shook my hand. I was surprised that he was momentarily stunned at the thought of shaking a woman's hand. After all, he has been working in the community for over 40 years, including being on boards with women. A few minutes after that T, whom The Husband and I are getting to know more each time we see him at community functions, said his good-byes. He shook hands
Before I could end my transaction at the Stationary Box Store, the clerk held up a piece of paper and asked, "Do you know about the store's promotion for a special protection glass for your iPhone?" "No," I answered. The clerk continued his spiel. "Wait, wait," I interrupted. "We don't have an iPhone?" "We still have a flip top disposable phone," the Husband added. "This glass can protect your watches," said the clerk. I help up my bare wrists. "We don't wear watches." The clerk was quite disappointed. We weren't. Giggle.
It was so gooooood to get home this afternoon. We spent over an hour stuck on a barely moving rural road, which normally would've taken 10 minutes to drive. I feel sorry for the commuters. They have to deal with this every work day. We three—the Husband, Molly the Cat, and I—live in an agricultural area in which the only way in and out of town are two-lane highways and back roads. It was not a big deal until maybe five or so years ago when construction of proposed developments approved 20 or so years ago finally went into full force. The building moratorium was dropped, which was imposed because the City had to fix its screwy sewage system. Bam! Bam! Bam! The bummer about this is that many people who work in Hollister live other places because they can't afford the homes. As for the people moving into the new homes, they drive the two-lane highways and back roads to Hwy 101, the main highway to the cities where they work. Our roads are essentially impacted teeth. The