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| A peony a number of years ago in my New York State garden |
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| My grandson's 2021 Christmas list |
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| I made Kouign Amann, y'all! |
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| Rocks in a stream, Finger Lakes Region of NYS |
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| A fortune telling machine in St. Augustine |
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| Dead banana leaves |
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| The only good thing about daylight savings time |
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| Bird of Paradise plant Florida |
I woke up this morning to 66 degree (Fahrenheit) weather, dark and gloomy overcast skies, and rain. It's going to rain all day. I love moody, cool, stay-at-home weather. I'm so happy.
I lived south of Seattle for a few years in the early 1960's. I was enchanted by the misty rain and dark skies. From 9 - 12 years old I jumped at the chance to grab an umbrella and go for a a walk in the rain. Especially through the street light illuminated neighborhood at night. Magical! Seattle only averages 152 sunny days each year.
The Orlando area gets 233 sunny days per year. During the other months it is sunny in the morning, and then rains in the afternoon. But during the summer it is too hot and humid to enjoy the rain.
I like living in Florida, but I still get happy when it is a relatively cool, rainy day during the dry season. A whole day, not just an afternoon. Our dry season lasts from mid-October through May.
As long as I'm geeking out, I thought I'd share these with you. They are from https://www.move.org/sunniest-cities-in-america/
I'm trying to remember what Halloween seemed like as a child. I am having trouble rousing any vivid memories. I do know that in the mid to late 1950s, I was usually a gypsy, a pirate, or a tramp. I have a vague memory of people in the neighborhood opening their doors to me, and I know I said "Trick or Treat!" as loudly as I could. I also know I'd empty my bag on the floor and organize my candy by type when I came home. My grandkids still do the same.
Are there any memories or favorite costumes you want to share?
Here are some random photos from Halloweens gone by:
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| Meatloaf feet made by Sharon M |
In my last post I told you how I hate to travel. Today I will confess that I love to be other places once I get there.
While up north last week, our extended family surprised us with a 50th anniversary party. We have never been honored like that before, nor have we ever been surprised. Tom and I felt loved by and grateful for our large, crazy family. As my sister-in-law, Vacation Sue, says: #familyiseverything.
Not everyone was there, of course. My family lives from sea to shining sea, north to south. So far, my parents have 36 direct descendants: 7 children, 16 grandchildren, and 13 great-grandchildren. My parents and two of my brothers have died, and I won't include divorced former in-laws, but adding in spouses and significant others, there are currently 51 family members. I say currently, because at least one more great-grandchild is due to arrive next year.
There were 24 family members at my brother's house that beautiful night. Plus 5 special friends, two of whom were friends of ours from high school days. For two retirees who spend most of their time alone with each other and a large, ginger cat, it was super darn fun. Glorious, really.
And now I promise I won't write about our 50th anniversary again. I've managed to squeeze 3 posts out this past year. I'm really pushin' it.
Tomorrow we fly north to see our extended family. I have a million things to do.
Tom threw his back out overnight! He's getting cold, heat, ibuprofen, rest - whatever it takes to get him back in fighting form. I haven't been "home" in 3 years. There are 4 toddlers I have never met, and a grand niece and nephew I've only seen once. I miss my family like crazy.
I went online to check us in (24 hours in advance) and also changed our baggage choices from carry-on to checked so he doesn't feel compelled to lift heavy bags up high when we board the plane.
I accidentally knocked a full glass of water off the kitchen counter. It shattered all over the floor.
I did laundry, and packed our bags on and off all day. It's so hard to make decisions. I'm making lists so I don't forget anything.
I drove to the bank to get cash. There was only one bank clerk. The man in front of me was trying to do something shady. The bank clerk wouldn't let him. He was argumentative. It took forever. Grrrr!
I went to the store to buy magazines and snacks. Then I stopped at a gas station to fill up the car's tank. The outside card reader wouldn't take my credit card. I had to go inside to pay (horrors). My card worked fine inside.
But while I was driving home a red light on the dashboard started flashing at me. Apparently there's something wrong with the brakes. I guess we'll take Tom's car instead of mine. I wonder if his car has a reasonably full gas tank?
When I got home I accidentally knocked another glass full of water off the exact same place on the kitchen counter. It shattered, too.
As I was writing this, I got a call from my doctor's office telling me my lab results. Apparently I'm pre-diabetic, for crying out loud.
I did a little housecleaning. The house is still a mess. Who cares?
People become defined by the roles they play. When I retired and moved away, I was stunned by the difference in how I was perceived. When I worked outside the home, I was someone who was noticed by others. People knew what I was capable of. I was liked, admired, feared by some, disliked and disapproved of by others. It was fun for many years. Then it wasn't. I wanted a change. I retired.
When I moved, I had no personal accomplishments to define me. I knew no one, except the people who called me wife, mother, and grandmother. I was still thinking in terms of roles, and those seemed like the only ones I had.
It took me a couple years to get my bearings.
Now I realize retirement is a transformation. Instead of looking outward for approval, I have learned to define myself. Big change.
I'm actually a lot more like I was at 18. Carefree, creatively involved, interested, and curious. I do what I want. I think what I will. It has been a relief to step back and let the world carry on without me.
Change is freakin' hard. But it is the nature of life, so there you go.
"JOSEPH CAMPBELL: If you follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. Wherever you are -- if you are following your bliss, you are enjoying that refreshment, that life within you, all the time."
Change #3,427, Now I take pictures of alligators.
That new cat we have, Murray, is a total goofball. Perhaps even a knucklehead. We are really enjoying him. Except in the middle of the night when he sneaks up the middle of the bed to sleep right next to our faces, and then scratches my toes and feet in revenge for moving him down to the foot of the bed. Actually, I think he assumes I'm playing with him when I move my feet.
Can cats be trained?
I am in awe of the unconscious mind. I'm specifically thinking about dreams right now, but I could also be referring to unresolved emotional themes that drive me inelegantly through life. And, of course, there are the triggers that upset me, or those lovely gut feelings one gets when something feels right, or wrong.
I am inclined to daydreams and wonder. I've often thought the creative imagination connects us to the divine. Whatever that is.
Consequently, I admire the endless stream of dreams my unconscious mind (UM) provides each night. What a gifted storyteller it is, and it never runs out of ideas or new material.
I was lucky enough to get a (grainy) shot of the SpaceX launch last week. It was uncanny.
Two years ago today I had surgery to repair my busted knee cap. Time really does fly. We celebrated by going on an 8 mile bike ride.
I would guess I'm about 96% back to normal. This is likely the best I can hope for, and I am NOT complaining. I'll never run up and down stairs again, but would I want to?
I am still awed and humbled by the human body's desire to heal, as best as it can. As best it can.
