Simplifying life. Less entertainment. Less food. Less busyness. Less information. This is my goal.

 Yesterday I had glide-out shelves installed in the kitchen cabinets. This meant I had to empty four shelves and look at all the things I never use. It was task to hold each item, ask myself when I had last used it, why I had it, and so on. Now my dining room table is full of bowls and platters and containers to give away. I'd like to think my closet is next. 

There's something to be said about all the space that is felt when all that is not needed is set aside. How clear my head feels when I open a drawer and see only things I use. 

 So, I'm making myself do things today. Yesterday was 104 degrees. Today promises the same. I'm writing like I'm doing morning pages. No filter. No edits. Getting things out of my head. I open the refrigerator and don't even want to eat but I make myself cut up a nectarine and some strawberries. Add some yogurt and homemade granola. Check breakfast off my list. I make myself fill the bird feeder. I get tired of doing that sometimes. It makes the yard a mess. I rake up piles of spent seed. Nasty. I pull vines that are taking over the beds. I notice the honeysuckle is dying. Damn heat. So hot it kills honeysuckle. I go inside and have to take a second shower and it's not even noon yet. 

I spend ten minutes to draw a doll again. A pitiful little thing that looks even worse in my drawings. Today is Day 2 of 365x2. 

I like our house. I do. I like our yard that looks like a park. But sometimes I hate all that it involves. I hate that I want things just right. Yeah, I could let the vines take over the azaleas;   I could let the redbud seedlings grow. But I feel compelled to clean it up. Even though it would take a ton of work to do it justice. But I tug and pull and get sweaty and then take my second shower.

Today I will go to my sister's pulmonologist's appointment with her. She's fearful she'll be diagnosed with COPD. And she may be right. I'll go and take notes so we can remember what was said. 

Today I am going to really try to be alcohol free. 

 July 16, 2022

Looking back, it looks like every year I decide I want to start blogging (writing) again, then I do one or two posts and go on my merry way. I read an article the other day suggesting doing something consistently for two years. Two years. That seemed a bit over the top to me, but it made me wonder. What if I did something every day for two years? What would that feel like? How much improvement would I see? Like write for ten minutes every day for two years. Draw a cat or a bowl or anything every day for two years. 

Right now I am 74 years old. If I started drawing something every day for the next two years, what would happen? One, I would be 76 years old. Two, I might get really good. Something to think about and then maybe blog about? Oh! Two birds with one stone. Do it and write about it. I think I may be on to something.

I've been depressed lately. Several reasons I suppose, but difficult to say really what's behind it. My health. The heat. My rut at home. The fact that I gave up my prozac. All contribute I think. I have no purpose. No joy. Maybe the new plan of Project 365x2 kicks in and at the same time kicks ass.

Maybe I could start a new blog called 365x2. I'm not really sure I can commit to something for two years. One day at a time. Maybe I can commit to that. 

Learning Again

 Over two years and now I decide I want to blog again. I want to write. I want to let my mind, my thoughts flow. I still love going back to read things. Like the post I just reread about my dream about ham, etc. Never in a million years would I have remembered that. Now especially, I’m feeling like I need to make notes, keep records of my life. My memory, she’s not what she used to be. Sad to say,  sad to admit, but it is my reality. Of course, I don’t think I’ve ever had a great memory. Not like Jennifer’s anyway. She really does have a good memory.

So, last week I drove to OKC to spend a few days at Donna’s to help her get adjusted to being home from the hospital and on a walker. She’s recovering from surgery for a bi-lateral fracture on her sacrum. She was in the hospital for 16 days, now she’s home and will continue with PT and OT in her home. I was there two days and was busy the entire time. Cooking, shopping, laundry, misc. this and that. One thing I came away with is a grateful heart for my health and my strength. In fact, as I was packing up to leave, she said her goal was to be as strong as me. Sweet. She called me a warrior. Part of it was that I am comfortable in her house and with her and could anticipate things she would need. Things she didn’t have to ask me to do or have to think about on her own. Take charge and just do things. Like figuring out a way for her to make her morning tea and transport it to a table or the sofa. Simple solution to buy a small thermos that would fit in her pouch that went on the front of her walker. She called me this morning to tell me it worked like a dream. Her morning tea is very important to her and I knew it would be an issue. 

This will be fun and good for my mind to start striving again. I attended a Writer’s Symposium last week that wasn’t about how to write but was a conversation interview with a writer. Connie Cronley was the writer. She writes personal essays and historical stories. The essay is what I want to focus on. 

Day One: New Habits

A walk, first thing this morning. Before coffee, before looking in the mirror. It had rained overnight so it was cool, gray and very quiet. As I walked, it seemed the bicycles were faster, the cars slower, the birds louder and colors more vibrant. A great way to start my day. Remember that.

I dreamed last night I had three giant hams in the refrigerator; my daughter sent me a package of bright blue lacy beans and a bunch of peeled carrots. The ham was disgusting. I was working on trying to get an art show installed, brought from Chicago. I sat on a sofa and smoked a joint with one of the managers helping me get the show, which was a very long (as in 50 yards or so) canvas. My LipSense lipstick made the end of the joint bright red.

Reality: my daughter did send me a bag of beans for Mother's Day but I haven't opened it yet. I know how much she loves her bean club, so for her to send me a bag of them is especially meaningful. No, I won't cook them with ham!

I met Jennifer for a glass of wine and a burger last night at Fleming's. She was exhausted from her week of jury duty. It was an early night for both of us.

I'm working on teaching my cat to love the automatic cat feeder. We're both still learning. My goal is for her to not wake me up at 6 a.m. for food and to not sit on the counter when she's hungry. During the day, she runs to the feeder when she hears it open up and then is very cautious until she can smell the food. So far she is not hearing it at 6 a.m. (only two mornings).

CAT UPDATE
She has an afternoon meal scheduled for 3:00. Today at 2:58 she got up from her nap, went over and sat in front of the feeder to wait. Wow!

Six Years? Really?

When I read my past postings, it makes me realize how much more in tune with my life I am when I write. More mindful of what I do. More observant of what I see. I believe I see or at least acknowledge more beauty around me. But writing takes time and somehow I let time get away. I'm writing today because I want to start the habit again. Tom is en route to Scotland for a guys bucket trip. Seven days of golf in a nine day trip. I have ten days to look at my habits without any consideration whatsoever to someone else's habits, needs, or schedule. I'll see what happens.

I encouraged Tom to keep a journal of his trip. What he eats, things he sees, experiences, etc., so he can (1) remember everything, and (2) tell me all about it. I told him I'd keep a journal of what I do. Mine will be considerably different than his.

So far, here's what today looks like. When I got home from taking Tom to the airport, I trimmed the abelia shrubs in the back beds and the remaining side of the hedge. I didn't clean them up. I hate cleaning them up. I love to trip. I decided I would let Ralph do the cleanup when he puts down the final stack of mulch. I also trimmed a few things in the front, but I did clean that up sine it's in the front of the house and on the sidewalk. I came inside and finished a square on my art page of 2x2 squares.

I feel a little at loose ends. Like there are too many things to do. Where to start. Can I really learn to relax?

Punting

 Saturday we went to Cambridge--us and about a million other people. The city was just to the point of being overwhelming for me at this stage of the trip. We wanted to do the punting, since that is the quintessential Cambridge activity, plus, it's the only way to see the backs of the colleges. ( A punt, in case you don't know, is a lot like a gondolier. Maneuvering it is harder than it looks, evidenced by the number of amateurs who were all over the place, turning the river into an afternoon of bumper-punts.) We had the good sense to NOT try it ourselves and paid for a "chauffered" boat along with two young English couples, 26-28 years old, who were quite prepared! They popped the Prosecco and Coronas just as the boat started to move. It was great fun, but the punt jams were nonstop to the point that you had to give up trying to hear the tour guide and go with the moment of laughing at the silly folks trying to maneuver these boats on their own, feeling quite safe with our competent punter, even if we couldn't understand a word of what he was trying to tell us.Other than the punting, we really didn't give the city its due. It was just too much at this point.

Random Thursday

I think I'm wearing down; I'm ready to be home. Nothing against anything here, I'm just missing my routine, my hubby, my cat, cooking, all that. Maybe three weeks would have been enough. I've jokingly said I feel like I'm in electronic rehab -- no television, no texting, no phone -- and as sad as it may be, I look forward to sitting down and watching one of my recorded TV shows. I also look forward to air conditioning!

I took myself out to breakfast today to a sweet cafe called The Pantry. I ordered homemade muesli with yogurt and honey, plus a pot of Earl Grey. The tea here really is better. It really is. I just couldn't go for one of the pub breakfasts advertised on the sidewalks -- eggs, beans (as in pork n beans), mushrooms and sausages. Just couldn't do it.

The big news items in these slow news times are (1) Simon Cowell fathering a child with his friend's wife and (2) Prince Charles wearing the same suit to at least seven of his past "events." How do they know it's the same suit, you ask? It seems the suit is patched, or repaired as they say, it's front and center, bottom left side. He bumped into fresh paint on one of his trips and it was fixed by placing a patching over the area. Maybe he's doing his part for the economy. Another newsy bit was about the zero-hour contracts that employees at Buckingham Palace have. No guaranteed number of hours; calling employees in on short notice, etc. And they can't take another job if they are under the contract. Sounds ludicrous to me. It will be interesting to see how long it lasts.

I went into a Marks & Spencer store today. This one has clothes in the front half of the store, and groceries in the back half. A fairly large area, actually, for food, and it's good food too. An interesting combo.

I picked this item up, thinking it was probably a Shiraz candle. It is not, in fact, a candle, but a (plastic) glass of Shiraz, sealed with plastic on top, available for purchase. Right there, next to the shoe wipes. Do not look for this on the grocery shelves in Tulsa!



And my last thought for this post is why would they announce the Jane Austen currency note four years ahead of when it will circulated? What a tease! I was all set to scoop some up for friends.

Beatrix Potter at Hill Top

Although I grew up to be an avid reader, I don’t have memories of being read to as a child. I’ve known of the story of Peter Rabbit, of course, but don’t remember it being read to me or even reading it to my own daughter. That being said, I visited the house of Beatrix Potter this weekend at Hill Top in Cumbria, and left with such an appreciation of that woman that I think the next biography I read will be about her.

Perhaps one of the more impressive things about her to me was her land management skills. She was an early Preservationist and very serious about preserving large estates, not breaking them up and tearing down old cottages to be replaced with cheap bungalows. The money she made from selling her books, she bought land and upon her death, left more than 4000 acres to be rented to tenant farmers in order to keep a certain breed of sheep on the Hill. Her books were almost autobiographical in that she used animals from the village, people, places, things in her own house and garden for inspiration.

Touring her house and hearing the excitement of children seeing her books come to life for them, was goose bumpy. They squealed when they saw the rhubarb in the garden; they knew about the two bad mice on the shelf. And the cat who fell through the floor? They found the board that was removed to rescue the cat and jumped for joy. For those children, her spirit was alive -- and so were her stories. And to think, her first book was turned down by the publisher and she chose to publish it herself.

Just pictures

These English just can't stop with the flowers. And neither can I, apparently. They go on and on and on. I've never in my life seen the begonias they grow. And the colors. Colors so bright you almost wish for sunglasses.

Good Karma

This morning my sister and I agreed that we would replace our afternoon wine regimen with afternoon tea, having just returned from four days in the Lake District, where afternoon teas were abundant. I made it my mission today to seek out a proper teapot, some cups and loose tea before she got home from work. I walked to High Street, went in and out of shops, surprised at how difficult it was to find a "cute" teapot. Finally, I went to my favorite store, TK Maxx. They had several pots, varying prices, but no sets. I continued to browse, trying to decide whether to mix and match or move on. I spied two cups with saucers, creamy white on the clearance table, but the other pots in the store just didn't fit with them. I passed them by. Continuing to wander around the store, I saw a woman carrying a teapot that matched the cups and saucers. I stopped her and said, "They have some matching cups and saucers over there." "Yes," she said, "I saw them and couldn't decide. We went away to Cartmel this weekend and I made tea in a teapot and it just tasted so much better. I have a pot at home but this one's so nice. I just didn't know if I wanted the cups." I told her that we too had been in Cartmel, and I was looking for a teapot for my sister and if she hadn't got that one, I probably would have. She asked me if I would get the cups as well. I told her I would, and she handed me the pot and said, "You should have this. I want you to get this for your sister. But you have to get the cups too." We argued a bit about it, but she was insistent and I walked out with a lovely teapot with two matching cups and saucers. Her graciousness gave me goosebumps.

I believe that what goes around comes around.  She will have a great day; she certainly made mine.

A Gallon of Gas

Don't let yourself be fooled by thinking this is the price for a gallon of gasoline. That's 1.39 (pounds) for a liter, or $2.16 per liter. Multiply that times 4 and you have $8.54 for a gallon of gasoline! It makes small cars and public transportation very attractive.

We just returned from a 4-day driving trip and since a friend drove, we filled the tank. $120 later . . .

Food Diary

Someone wrote and asked me what I've been eating while I'm here. Before I came, I was remembering that on previous visits to England, I had not been impressed with the food. Bland and heavy came to mind. I have to say, though,  I haven't experienced that at all on this visit. Another thing that is different this time is it's more difficult to find a proper cup of tea than it is a coffee. Before, when you asked for coffee, you got Sanka. Those days are long gone.
 
When we went out to dinner in Southwold over the weekend, we ate at The Crown restaurant which is part of an Adnams hotel there. There were four of us; two selected the scallops and scampi for the starter, one chose the smoked tomato and goats cheese salad, and the other went with pork terrine. Judging only by comments, I would guess that Irene and I made the best choice with the scallops. Under the ever-so-small scallops were those crisp English peas, which made for a nice variety in texture. For the entree, the three ladies all went with fresh sea bass, served with tiny new potatoes, spinach and fennel. The gentleman had a steak, which he said is never as good as the steaks in America. For dessert, we all got the roasted peach served with ginger ice cream.

For lunch at the 1885 Cafe at Snape Maltings, I had tomato hummus, olives, and bread to start, followed by a baked portabello mushroom with goats cheese on Thorpness greens. See what I mean by lovely meals?

Jennifer and her friend Joy have a routine of going for pizza on Friday evenings, and we have done that twice since I've been here. Pizza Express actually has more ambiance than its name would suggest. We sit in the courtyard and eat pizza with the thinnest crust I've ever had in my whole entire life. There's one pizza which has a hole in the middle (think big flat doughnut) with a salad in the hole. You never feel stuffed when you leave. Plus, they put hardly any cheese on their pizzas.

Nearby Jennifer's house, there's what I would call an upscale grocer called Waitrose. They have a Good to Go counter with fresh made items. My favorite has been the beetroot and goats cheese salad with a mix of wheatberries and lentils, spinach and a lemon/creme fraiche dressing. I've had this several times; in fact, I had it today. 

While I was at Waitrose, I bought a Ginger Beer. I've seen ginger beers on menus, but have no idea what it tastes like. The bottle, says "an alcoholic ginger beer made with jamaican ginger, sicilan lemons and a hint of chili. Serve over ice with a slice of fresh lemon."

Of course, when we cook, which is most evenings, it's just as I would cook at home. Fruits and vegetables are fresh, cheeses are abundant. Eggs come in cartons of 3 or 6 or 9, never 12. Interesting, I thought. There are a few butcher shops in town for fresh meat, although Jennifer buys beef at the Air Force base because the German base has its own cattle ranch, and the grass fed beef is superb.

Aldeburgh Charm

Aldeburgh is on the water, just a few miles south of Southwold. Again, charm abounds. It's hard to stop taking pictures of the same things over and over and sometimes I just have to put the camera away and say I have enough that I won't forget how it made me feel.

I feel like strolling instead of walking. I feel as if the gray weather is here on purpose so the flowers can be appreciated all the more. I wish I could paint and draw everything I see. I like that the gardens are always humble. I like seeing poppies growing unexpectedly in the marshes, lavender growing in the wall of a church.

I like people leaving notes on their walls. I like the tiny details given to things, rather than the grand gesture. I like the isolated calm broken by a village.




I like a busy street that still allows you to see the gentle landscape beyond.

Suffolk Coastline

Apropos to visiting the Suffolk coast, the weather turned and there was a continuous mist, wind and a gray sky. It was perfect.

The picturesque beach huts line up to punctuate the gray. These are quite small, no water, no electricity, you can't stay the night, and to purchase one is at least 100,000 pounds, which converts to roughly $150,000. They are available to rent for the day or week, 20 pounds a day ($30). The beach huts are quintessential Southwold. Artist after artist paints, photographs, fuses glass, any medium will do to capture their charm.  In another area, the huts are used for a shopping village, much like flea market booths.

I took advantage of being in the area to visit a business colleague, who through the years has turned into a friend and now, my host in his charming English village. We were greeted with a glass of champagne in their lovely garden area, the American flag flying high in our honor. My heart burst from the sweet gesture. It's one I will remember if and when I have a guest visiting from another country.

Our host, Jamie, is a sailing aficionado and quite involved in a small sailing museum there. He had the keys to unlock the door even when it wasn't open, so we got to see the "Alfred Corry," the Southwold No.1 Lifeboat, dedicated in 1893, which is being restored to her original form and takes up most of the space in a small museum. Stories and photos of rescues and maritime history line the museum walls; there's even a section about the Scottish girls working in the herring factory, who were able to gut 40 herring a minute!

We left Southwold after a proper English breakfast of ham and homemade sausages, cooked on the outside grill, creamy scrambled eggs, toast, juice, and afterwards, coffees. (Tea had been prepared early, upon our waking.) It was all quite delightful. We left with full hearts and traveled south along the coastline, stopping in Leiston to see the Abbey ruins, then to Thorpeness, a village built in 1913 as a holiday fantasy village for people to experience "merrie auld England," then on to Aldeburgh, which was large compared to the others and bursting with charm. Our biggest surprise was the Snape Maltings, disused malthouses which have been converted into one of the finest concert venues in the country, and most recently a recording studio. Plenty of shops and galleries, a tearoom and a pub (of course). Currently some of the malthouses are being converted to residences, as well. This photo only shows the front side, what you see as you would drive down the road. Unfortunately, I was so taken aback once we were inside the complex that I failed to photograph any other part.

Train to Croydon

Which is better? This?

Or this?

Yeah, I thought so too. That was my feeling yesterday when we ventured to Croydon, which is basically south London. Busy streets, tall steel buildings, people bumping into you, sirens, yellow ambulances, all the hustle and bustle that Newmarket is lacking.

When they tell you that you grow by taking yourself out of your comfort zone, let me tell you, I must have grown a lot yesterday. We left early, got on the wrong train to London, but at least it was going to London. With plenty of improvisation and good luck, we arrived at the UK Border Agency on time, just a little rattled. It had taken Jennifer six weeks to get this appointment, so missing it was out of the question. After we ran across a busy six-lane street, I spotted this sign.

Oops! After her appointment, we decided we'd had enough of Croydon and took the train (now quite experienced) into central London for a late lunch. Red buses, cute taxi cabs, and tourists passed by as we dined al fresco on Buckingham Palace Road. One gentleman stopped to ask me for directions to Westminster Abbey. It thrilled me to think I looked like I knew what I was doing!

A hot train back home, and we'd had an 11-hour day. It was nice to be back in quiet little Newmarket. The evening temperature required a sweater, which felt great after a sweltering day. The weather is so nice in the evenings, it sounds like a party all around the neighborhood, so many people sitting outside, you hear much laughter and talking all around you.

Have I mentioned this is the driest July in 250 years?!!

The Gallops

It's hot here. Everyone is so excited about the weather. They keep telling me how lucky I am to be here for this weather. Usually, they say, it's quite chilly, rainy, and jacket worthy. I don't tell them I was actually hoping for a bit more chill than I'm getting, but there's still time to experience that I imagine. The mornings are quite nice, as are the evenings, but during the day, no air conditioning means the windows are open with no screens, little breeze, but plenty of bees and flies. There are times that the incessant buzzzzz drives me up the wall. I'm not complaining, just keeping it real for you.

I'm a big fan of thumbprint travel. Take a map, put your thumb down where you are, and explore the area covered by your thumb. That is pretty much what I've been doing the past week.

This morning I walked down to watch the horses do their gallop exercises. This little town is known for one thing  -- horse racing. It's the thoroughbred training center of the country, so fields, stables, and galloping paths surround the area. It's really quite beautiful and very peaceful.


After the horses finish their exercises (after 1 p.m.) the galloping trails are open to the public. I want to walk the trail one evening because I hear the view from the top is spectacular.

And if you're a tall woman looking for a tall man, this is NOT the place to be. It is very noticeable how many small men are here. And the other day at the races? All those retired jockeys? Oh my. It was another world. I felt like a giant.

 
The stables and even the stable entrances are very elaborate. Very clean and picturesque.

Tomorrow, we venture by train to an area near London (we're 65 miles north), business for my sister; exploration for me. She will be interrogated, fingerprinted, and investigated so she can trade her temporary work Visa for a permanent one. Me, I'm along for the ride and one more adventure.

"There was a crooked man and he walked a crooked mile; he found a crooked sixpence upon a crooked stile. He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse, and they all lived together in a little crooked house."

An English nursery rhyme


This is Lavenham, known for its perfectly preserved half-timbered houses, wonky angles compliments of the passing years. Some people say this town was the "inspiration" for the nursery rhyme, but I couldn't find anything about that in the shops there and I would think if it were true, they'd be selling nursery books like crazy. A bit of research tells me that the poem actually has political references and background. Regardless, it was a charming town with pastel-painted buildings all carefully maintained. They have a zealous preservation group that has banned TV antennas and aerials to keep the village's antique appearance.

Jigsaw Festival

You’re going to be jealous, I know you are. I went to the Jigsaw Festival today at St. Mary’s Church in Newmarket. It’s an annual event, with an “ever changing display” of puzzles. There were approximately 275 puzzles on display, all completed and all for sale. Tables and tables of puzzles, all sizes. Some were as big as 5 ft.x 3 ft. There were several in progress with the invitation to "have a go" if you wanted. I added one piece.

Unfortunately, I missed the Singles Jigsaw Championship which was held on Sunday. A woman finished the 1000 piece puzzle in 171 minutes and is the first British Singles Jigsaw Champion. The women who joined me for tea at my table were marveling at her skill.

This just goes to prove there’s something for everyone.

 











Have a go!








This is the competition puzzle that was completed in 171 minutes. Everyone who competed got to keep the puzzle and the winner was awarded 50 pounds.

Leaving Comments

I've received emails from several people who were having a hard time posting a comment. I have changed the settings to allow anonymous comments for those who don't have a Google account, etc. Please identify yourself though so I'll know who's watching:) Hoping to hear from you!