Aiming for a Better Me

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August 10th morning coming down. Seems like summer made a sudden departure and we are left in the cool. It is grey and cool. I don’t feel an urge to pick up my heels for my morning walk. Instead, I’ll do my walking on the keyboard for awhile. I am making a conscious effort of not being a gerbil on a wheel. I’ll see if I can break some bad habits and become a better happier version of myself.

Beginnings of anything is the hardest part. I’m feeling stuck already. The thing I can/should do is to pay my house insurance. It is due on the 15th. I have a hot pink post it note to remind me. I’ve just taken time to make said payment for the insurance online. It took only minutes. That little initiative led me to change the bed linen and toss it in the laundry. While I was at it, I thought I might as well dust the bedroom. Having done all that, I felt a need to reward myself with a coffee.

On second thought a morning walk would be a better reward. A walk could loosen that stuck feeling, burn some calories and boost my mood. So that was what I did, my daily walk to the mall. While I was there I bought some B.C peaches and a bag of pluots. You may wonder, what the hell are pluots? They are a cross between a plum and an apricot. I haven’t tasted them yet. I’m hoping for delicious.

Now at the end of the day, I am waiting for my supper. I am pleased with my performance. I blanched and froze more beans, harvested some bitter melons, cucumbers, squash and 2 cherry tomatoes. I visited my father to see if he is ok. My sister had reported that he complained of a sleepless night because of his heart palpatations. I took the guy along so we can say we want to harvest the garlic planted in his garden. I do not want him to give him undue attention.

When we got there, I could see he had been out weeding in the front yard. There was clumps of dandelion strewn here and there. I could not find him in the house. When I went to the back door, I could see him standing on the step looking fine and perky. I made no big deal about it. In fact I made no mention of it. I did not ask about his night or his heart. But of course, he had to tell me. I told him I couldn’t sleep either. I reminded him his heart thing was nothing new and if it wasn’t too bad…..

I left it at that. I did not reprimand him or remind him that he said he was not going to go out ever again after he said he fell. He will do what he will do. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t hold him back. I have to be smart, not to waste my energy and lose my temper and mind. On the last drive to ER, I did wonder what would happen if I was to have a heart attack even if the guy was driving.

Too Much of Everything

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August 9th turned out to be a beautiful day. I’ve been marinating myself in Trump news by reading the 2 Heathers’ posts every morning, Heather Cox Richardson and Heather Delaney Reese (It’s a Lovely Life). It’s not good. I’m getting a sense that our world is very malignant. It’s not good but I could not stop reading the Heathers. So I started to listen to positive speakers on Youtube like Bruce Lipton to get a sense that there is still goodness in the world.

I’m up to my eyebrows in fatigue and lethargy. It is hard to feel creative. Depression is a luxury I cannot afford. I have too many beans to process. I have too much clutter to clear. I have too much dust and dirt to clean. I feel too much responsibility for my 95 year old father even though I have 2 siblings to share the care. I just feel too much of everything. It is just too much to sort out. So I am going to pack it in and call it a day. Tomorrow is another new start.

A Healthy Obsession

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Most days I am in the greenhouse first thing in the morning. I love to take in the sweet scent of the bitter melon blooms. This year I am blessed with 13 healthy productive plants. This morning’s count was 20 melons that I could see. Now there’s one less. I cooked photo #7 for lunch with an eggplant from my sister.

I haven’t master the art of growing eggplants. I am still waiting for my first eggplant. The blossoms keep falling off before becoming a fruit. I looked into reasons why. Too hot, not enough water, severe pruning, etc. My best bet was unsuccessful pollination. It’s flower is like the tomato’s. It contains both male and female organs. I had been shaking it once in awhile. That hasn’t worked so I’ve been hand pollinating it with a small brush. I have only one bloom left. Cross my fingers and toes.

Talking about tomatoes, I have one ripe one on the vine. So far I’ve always had a big crop of tomatoes because I plant a lot of tomatoes except for this year. I’ve cut back. I might be sorry because this is the year of not great results.

However, we do have alot of beans. Buckets, buckets and buckets. I’m up to my ears blanching and freezing. I’m taking a little rest break to write this post.

Still Body, Runaway Mind

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August 7th. A sunny day. I had a sleepless annoying night. I lost my already written post just before bedtime. No amount of wrangling could bring it back. I wonder whatever to the auto save thing. I willed myself not to get worked up over it. Though I wasn’t too irked, sleep was hard to come by. I willed myself to be calm and still and not thrash about. Even if I can’t sleep, I can relax my body. That part was successful but I could not still my mind.

All the little irritations of the day found their way into my head. All the annoying conversations replayed themselves. I was getting very mad and angry. I could choke and strangle a few people. But I kept my body still and as relaxed as I could. I might have drifted off but I don’t think I slept too many winks. I got out of bed at my usual time. I did not feel wasted as if I’ve been awake all night. I did not feel much out of sort at all. It pays to still the body even if the mind is having a fit.

I’m still standing at the end of the day. I’ve blanched and frozen 6 pounds of beans. I’ve taken my father out for coffee with my sister and friends. My body is still, my mind has returned home.

I’ll Worry Later, Everything Can Wait

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I’m late to the keyboard on this 5th of August. I was late getting up in the morning. The stress of this every day life has caught up to me. I’m giving up the thought of being productive. I’m giving up the idea of processing the pails and pails of beans waiting in the cooler. I’m giving up thoughts of baking a rhubarb sour cream cake or muffins. The sour cream will keep another day. Everything can just damn well wait. Tomorrow is another day.

The easiest thing to do when you are brain dead is to pick up your feet and walk. So I toddled off on my favourite route which is up the street to the mall. It is perfect because it offers a rest stop if I need at 2 bus stops with a bench. It’s good to have this street to walk on. It has been a good friend these last couple of years. Each step I take is a little easier. I can hear the traffic going by. Soon I am at the mall. I love this part of the morning.

I snack and while away the afternoon. I will worry about the weight and getting things done later. Today I need to fill myself up with comfort and ease. Today I need to sit and dawdle the day away. And now it is bedtime and I haven’t done a damn thing. No regrets and no guilt pangs. Everything has waited. Tomorrow I might worry.

Bitter Melons and Bread

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A cool August 3. It’s a sweater and bread baking kind of day. I had a slow start. I had phoned my sister to drop by to pick up some beets and a birthday present for her son. My nephew is going to Japan in October. I still have some Japanese yen from my last trip some 20 years ago. My intention of another trip came to naught so he might as well have it. It’s not big money, maybe $115 Canadian.

We had to have coffee and talked of our dad. It was not the best of things to talk about and left me not in the best of form. I had plans of baking bread. It was late in the morning but I carried on and hope for the best. The bread turned out ok though my memory got foggy and couldn’t quite remember the count of yeast and flour. My auto pilot must be functioning well. Now it is at the end of a strange feeling day. It remained cool and cloudy. I had to wear a sweater out to water the garden. It was nice to step inside the toasty warm greenhouse. It was heaven to see all my dangling bitter melons.

On cool cloudy difficult days, it is nice to have coffee with my sister, bake bread and bask in the warmth of the greenhouse amid the dangling bitter melons. Now the day is almost done and I can breathe a little easier. Tomorrow is a new start.

On Life and Aging

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It was a cool breezy August 2nd this morning. I had to close the vents in the greenhouse. It quickly warmed up now almost at noon, I can still enjoy my tea and a cool breeze in the shade. I’m facing the back alley and have my laptop on my lap. I feel irksome with life and still mad at dad. I feel like one of those parents who lectures their children. After all I have done for you, this is what I get!

I will not lecture him. It will not do any good except make me feel guilty. He will look contrite like a whipped puppy. I will feel abusive and that will suck all the joy out of everything. He always say he won’t go down the basement anymore and not go outside. Then he does. I know that and have no problems with it. You can’t tie him up. But does he have to do these things just days after getting out of the hospital? Does he need to go down the front steps at 8 o’clock in the morning? He’s been told many times for many years not to go out so early in the morning. He has COPD. The dew and pollen count is highest in the morning. Then he tells us he fell.

Lucky for him and us that he was not seriously hurt and got up using his cane. There was no witnesses to the event. All this makes me wonder how I will be at his age. I wonder why he is still so restless, getting into scrapes. Why can’t he be like other seniors sleeping in and nodding over their porridge in late morning. Last winter or winter before last, he locked himself out of the house in the middle of winter – taking out garbage. He had no coat but he did have his phone. It was me again who had to rescue him. I asked him why he had to take that little bit of garbage out when he had been told not to in winter. We can do that for him. He said the garbage bin was just a few steps out the door.

I am taking note on how not to be when I get into my dotage. I have no children or grandchildren to drive crazy. I do have a savings account plan for such an age. When the time comes I will check myself into a care home. Perhaps it is time to think of such matters. I am sure that not everyone is on the same page. Therefore, I have to chill, not stay mad and do things to make myself happy. Nobody else can or will. Now, I have some peas to blanch and freeze.

What’s Next?

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August 1, the morning after the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I am enjoying the cool of the morning. We had breakfast on the deck, the first time in a long while. I enjoyed my omelette and toast, followed by a sweet sliced apricot. So what now, after the July writing challenge is over?

Yesterday, I was profoundly numbed, sad and mad. I guess I was overcome by heat and the stress of tending to my elderly father. I was sorely disappointed by his thoughtless and selfish behaviour. All this atop of the politics of the world. Then there’s our premier, Scott Moe, who attended Lindsey Graham’s funeral in the U.S. on the taxpayers’ dollar. It adds to my distress that many Saskatchewan citizens supported his action and Graham.

In the evening we watched the movie In the Land of Blood and Honey about the Bosnian war. Why is it that women always get raped in wars? Watching a scene of a soldier raping a womon in front of other captured women, sparked a thought I never had before. Was my grandmother raped when she was imprisoned by the communists? I will never know. My mother and most of her siblings are gone. There is no one to ask except my youngest uncle. I will not ask that question. My grandmother has been gone for over 50 years now.

I think I’ve gotten over feeling mad and angry about where I find myself in life. I have a partner late in life. I do not have children and of course, no grandchildren. No legacy. It seemed my lot was to tend to others and that’s what it’s been. I remember the times when I felt it was more bearable to shoulder the burden myself than watch others suffer. And so I have suffered. Those times have come to an end. That doesn’t mean that I will become it is all about me. I don’t have that in me. In reality it will be a very slow transition in taking care of myself as well as others.

I think that is what’s next. I will start by doing what I love and what makes me feel good. I love words. I love how they march across my screen. I love how they can ease my heart. I love the smell of the bitter melons in the greenhouse in the morning. I love my garden spaces. I love the cool morning breeze, the silence and a slow cup to tea.That’s it. That’s all for now.

There’s a Crack in Everything

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It’s July 31, the last day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Cooler breezes prevail. I can feel a change in the air. I can feel a cascade of emotions within me. No optimism, no joy, just a sense of sadness for all the cracks that are present in our world today. It makes me think of Leonard Cohens song Anthem. It’s true that the crack is where the light gets in. Equally true, it is where the darkness comes in, too.

It’s good to remember to ring the bells that still can ring and forget about the perfect offering. And I like to remember to smile the while when I can. Good things still exist. I made a good run at this July UBC, missing only one day. That was the day when I had to take my father in to Emergency in respiratory distress. He has recovered remarkably well for a 95 year old. He continuous to be his old mischievous self, getting into trouble unnecessarily.

Just a few days after getting over pneumonia, he has to truck down to the basement to cut his hair. Yesterday morning at 8, he went outside and a tumble on the front lawn. No serious injuries except painful ribs on coughing. He’s not confused. He’s been warned not to do these things many times. It’s just who he is. I’m almost over getting angry at him because it is a waste of my energy. I’ve just made another trip over to see how he is. He is ok, not owning up, of course. He is always very clever at explaining. Those incidents are what are called accidents. How can you argue with that?

I do understand the elderly. It helps to read this post about how Clint Eastwood feels about getting old. Whether he wrote it or not it rings true. I wonder how I will be when I get to be 90. I hope I can participate in the UBCs That’s something to aim for. LOL. Thank you, Paul for hosting the challenges. Thank you everyone for writing and reading.

Anthem – Leonard Cohen

The birds they sang
At the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don’t dwell on what has passed away
Or what is yet to be

Ah, the wars they will be fought again
The holy dove, she will be caught again
Bought and sold, and bought again
The dove is never free

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in

We asked for signs
The signs were sent
The birth betrayed
The marriage spent
Yeah, and the widowhood
Of every government
Signs for all to see

I can’t run no more
With that lawless crowd
While the killers in high places
Say their prayers out loud
But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up
A thundercloud
They’re going to hear from me

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in

You can add up the parts
But you won’t have the sum
You can strike up the march
There is no drum
Every heart, every heart
To love will come
But like a refugee

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in

That’s how the light gets in
That’s how the light gets in

Thursday Show and Tell

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It’s Thursday, day 30 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m short of time and short of words. Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words. As you can see I do live in an urban forest, surrounded by trees. I’m grateful for their green and their shade. Both are cooling especially in this heat we find ourselves this summer.

peppers
carrot bed in background. A Japanese haskap berry bush in the middle. A saskatoon berry tree in right corner.
kohlrabis, celery, cukes and a squash.

We try to live as sustainably as we can, growing our own food as much as we can. We have 36 solar panels on the house and have added some on the garage in the back. We have a rain catchment by the side of the house. It is hidden behind a painting of a waterfall by the guy. We also have 3 sets of water catchment in the back. Doing our best but it’s probably not enough.