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.