MORNING CONVERSATIONS

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Another morning, another second cup of tea. It’s warmer both in and out of the greenhouse. I’m very hopeful my tomatoes will thrive and bear fruit by June. I’m not exactly thriving. Another slow morning. I think I am a bit under the weather. I will give myself a break today and stay off the ski trails. They are not their best anyways. It has just been an outing to stretch my legs the last two days. Even the Wildwood Golf Course was a bust. I had a few almost oops! But the fresh air, open space and the sky was worth the effort. It was a little country inside the city.

I’m happy to find my way back to the keyboard. These morning conversations are helping me to start the day. They’re a help for my mental health. I can mutter away and not bother any ears except the ones that want the bothering. I can get things off my chest, brain storm and start a creative process. They also help me by keeping track of things, a journal of gardening, cooking and whatever I have been doing. They’re kin to Julie Cameron’s Morning Pages. I like to use whatever tools I find to make life easier and more fulfilling. I love learning.

I’m learning it works to talk myself through difficult tasks. I ask myself what is it that makes it hard. Then I ask myself to describe and do each step. I try not to label myself lazy anymore, that it is just my brain thing. Thus, my laundry is folded and most of it put away. I still have those idiosyncrasies where I can’t put everything away or quite finish a job. I can work on that. I’ve fed Oscar, my sourdough starter, readying for starting some dough this afternoon. I’ve been trying for the last couple of days but haven’t muster enough energy. Today is the day.

My brother has just texted me telling me that our parents got their first Covid vaccines. Everything was very organized. It’s a huge relief. The sun is up and shining right on the greenhouse roof. It is -5℃ outside and 1.8℃ in the greenhouse. I’m looking forward to a great day.

A MARCH MORNING

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I’m having my second cup of tea and waiting for the sun to rise high and bright. I woke at 6 am to a temperature of -16 ℃ outside and -5.1 ℃ in the greenhouse. It is 7:50 am and the temperatures have climbed to -17 ℃ and -5.9 ℃. It will start to get warmer in another hour. Will my 4 tomatoes survive the test? They each are under layers of 2 pots and at least 5 layers of different cloth. They had survived minus temperatures up to -5 ℃ in the greenhouse before but I think it was a shorter period. I guess we will know in a few hours. The sun is bright and full above the horizon now.

Spring holds so much promise but it can be wearing also. I do not like this in between phase, the bouncing temperatures and the melting snow. I will miss the cross country skiing. It was not a great ski yesterday afternoon. The tracks more messed up, the snow sinking beneath my skis. One round around the park and I called it quits. The sun was out when we started for the park. Then just like that it disappeared. The clouds came and the sky darkened. I could feel a storm in the air. I would have welcomed more snow. None came.

The sun is quite bright now, coming in the east windows of my sunroom. It has always been a very bright room. Since we took the spruce trees down in August it is that much brighter and warmer when there is sunlight. Sometimes it is almost too warm even in March. How powerful the sun! In these few minutes the temperature has risen to -5.5 ℃ in the greenhouse. I am hopeful for my tomatoes.

It is 9:30 am. The greenhouse is warming up nicely at -3 ℃. Meanwhile it is -14 ℃ outside. The sun is bright. It looks warmer than it actually is. Stepping out onto the deck, the sun does not look or feels so warm. It has that grey cold of tepid dish water. I feel livelier than yesterday but I still would like to sink into a chair and stay there. Self talk was effective yesterday so I talked myself through sweeping the kitchen floor. Without Sheba, it is full of crumbs of all sorts. It is surprising how crummy a crumby floor can make me. Now if I can extend my self talk….

Ah, it is 0 ℃ in the greenhouse at 10 am. Pretty soon I can do the unveiling and see what happened to the tomatoes.

SELF TALK

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I’m feeling super slow and stiff this morning. I would not mind drinking tea and not moving at all today. Of course that makes me feel so guilty. Not wanting to ski till afternoon, I had to think of how to offset my laziness. While waiting for my kettle to boil, I summoned enough energy to throw all the laundry, blacks and whites, into the washer. I hear that is the trend nowadays. It usually goes against my grain, but I see no harm in doing that once in a blue moon. It saves a bit of energy for vacuuming the stairs and bathroom. Lint and dust gatherings there makes me feel worse when I’m feeling tired.

It never fails. No matter how many pairs of reading glasses I have, there’s none around when I’m looking for one. But I did find a pair when I was downstairs putting the laundry in. And, of course, it has to be right after I planted some tomatoes in the greenhouse that the night time temperature will drop. Why did I not check before hand? I was feeling pretty confident yesterday after 2 mornings of above 0 temps in the greenhouse. So I planted 4 of my Long Keeper tomatoes. Then I see that the low tonight is going to be -18 ℃. Yikes!

Not all is lost. I had 24 plants total. Lost one to frost. Planted 4. That still leaves me with 19. I shall bring all the unplanted seedlings in the house for tonight. There’s no point in playing Russian roulette and losing them all. The 4 that are planted can be the test subjects. It is sunny morning. Already the greenhouse is up to 9.1 ℃. I shall cover the tomatoes with black pots, row covers and blankets and hope for the best. I have to test the waters. I’m impatient. It’s all a new experience for me.

The laundry is done and hung. I’ve been hanging up clothes to dry forever. It’s not my favourite thing to do but it sure saves on the power bill. It feels like such a hard thing to do. I know it’s not true. It’s a brain thing like so many other chores. Our brains can be tricky. I try not to let it fool me with self talk. I ask myself what’s so hard about it and goes through the steps of hanging up a piece of clothing, one by one. Then it’s all done. I ask myself again, what was hard about that?

I’m having a cup of decaf now. I still feel like hell. Opening a new jar of coffee took effort. Some days are like this. I appreciate that I had put in some seed orders in the winter. I still want a few more things but it is not essential if I don’t.

SPRING FEVER

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I’ve never really understood what is meant by spring fever. By the sound of fever, I think of frenzy and therefore energy. It makes sense that after a long winter, one longs for and is ready for some action. I wonder what happened to me. It’s contrary to how I actually feel. I thought maybe it is another one of my anomalies but apparently there are others who suffer the same. There are explanations and remedies if one is interested. If all fails, I would just sink into my lethargy and have a nap. What is the point of fighting heavy eyelids?

The days are warming up. We do our cross country skiing mornings before the snow get too mushy. There was a bit of fresh snow this morning. My skis likes to hang on to it causing more traction. I wasn’t able to double pole down the slope and across to the other side. It was a bit of work but I got a workout. Some unhappy camper has been messing up our trails each day by walking right on the track. You could see that it was quite deliberate. We’ll see tomorrow if the new track we made is walked on.

The greenhouse is heating up. 2 days now the temperature overnight has been above 0. The days and nights have been warmer. Maybe the pails of water inside act as a thermal mass helping in keeping the heat in during the night. Some of my tomato seedlings are a fair size. I decided I would plant 4 of them right in the bed. I have enough to spare if they come to a mishap. Meanwhile there’s some action in the planters I had seeded with greens in the fall. I was hoping back then that they would sprout and grow and we would have fresh lettuce in December. That was wishing for too much. I revise that wish to fresh greens in May and tomatoes in June. It’s good to have high hopes.

I’m somewhat more awake now. I’m not fighting Mr. Sandman. I’m glad to have made an early start with some of the seeding. To be honest, I’m really not feeling so keen now. But I seeded a couple more things today – Chinese fuzzy gourd and leeks. I’m a little late with the leeks. Should have done them in February but oh well. I’ve been successful with most things except the Chinese bitter melon and the heirloom cucumber. Maybe I should have soaked the seeds overnight first. They do have a hard shell. Darn! I just dug into the bitter melon pot to investigate. One have just broken out of the shell and I broke it in half. I hope the other 3 are ok. I’m quite awake now. I should have been more patient. I could order more seeds. There’s time.

TOMORROW

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I have fallen off the writing track. It was once my addiction, my meditation and my lifeline. Now it is a strenuous exercise, a has been and a difficult thing to resume. Tomorrow, I say. I will get back to it tomorrow. I have finally mustered enough will power to come to my keyboard. I’m tinkering with the letters and words. Can I make a sentence? Can I form a thought? Will my fingers find the magic and fly over the keys? Or will I fall back into my lament of another tomorrow?

Funny how easy it is to ‘being human’ and so difficult to ‘rise above it’. We use our humanness as an excuse. It is a good word. I’m only human. It is not my fault. It is all very true but how is it working for me? I’m reminded of Portia Nelson’s poem Autobiography in Five Short Chapters.

Chapter I

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter II

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in this same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter III

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there.
I still fall in… it’s a habit… but,
my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

Chapter IV

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

Chapter V

I walk down another street.

I’m walking down Chapter 3 today. I can be grateful on seeing the hole. Habits are powerful and I am who I am. Falling is not a bad thing. It is the refusal to get up and out that is bad. Life is a long street. It’s not all a smooth walk. There’s holes in the sidewalk. It’s good to read all the chapters and learn the lessons. I hope this is another beginning of another long writing affair. Till tomorrow.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF…

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February 26th, day 26 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Our administrator suggests the topic of a day in the life of..YOU! He makes it sound exciting and since it is what I do anyways, I will carry on. It is my genre. My life does not seem exciting to me. I am bored though I am interested in many things. Can this be possible. This last stretch of February is for the birds. I’ve said this of other months also.

Today is March 1, 2021. As you can see I have bombed out of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I could not stretch myself to the finish line. I gave in to binging on Netflix. It was on a good series, Shetland. I fell in love with the characters, the Shetland Islands, Scotland and the stories of Ann Cleeve. I was hooked and could not help myself. Every day, after lunch and after my afternoon cross country ski, I would plop myself in front of my iMac with a cup of tea and a slice of Swedish thin bread. It was my matinee hour. It was ALL very addicting.

All that binging has made me feel very terrible because there was no possible end to it. That is until I came to the end of Season 3. That’s it. No more seasons of Shetland on Netflix Canada anyways. Now I’m in front of my keyboard with just a cup of tea, trying to tap away the angst of my withdrawal. I’ve still kept up with the100dayproject. I’m still sewing a logcabin quilt square a day. I have 30 squares now. I have also finished my cross stitch of Jesus I started many years ago. My fingers weren’t idle while watching Shetland. They were busy weaving in and out of those little squares. I can feel good about that.

I am happy, too, that I’ve kept up with the daily cross country skiing. Exercise and the great outdoors are good addictions. Otherwise, I don’t know what shape my head would be in. We went out to the Wildwood Golf Course this afternoon. I set my timer for a 20 minute ski out and then 20 minutes to get back. Having a set time gave me a sense of security that I can make it back to the parking lot.

I’m glad that I can wrap up the end of February and the Ultimate Blog Challenge with a final post, even if I’m a day late. I hate leaving things unfinished. It’s as if I don’t care and have given up. It is always good to care and give a damn. Things can get better. They can’t if we don’t care.

WRITING TO SAVE MYSELF

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So it it February 25, the 25th day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I did not bother with Day 24, deciding to immerse myself in Netflix instead. I suppose I was feeling the ‘what’s the point’, ‘who am I kidding’ and ‘I don’t give a shit’, etc. etc. as the Anna’s King would say. I’m not going into the analysis of my feelings or anything. Trying to dig into the mud of things is the worse thing I could do. I could dig myself into a hole no rabbit could hop out of.

etc. etc.

Now is the perhap time for me or anyone just to feel our ‘depression’ whatever we are feeling. We need no excuse or shame. There are enough reasons and whys right in our faces. There’s no need to dig or go into analysis. There are no couches safe for us to lay on anymore. How satisfying is a virtual couch? Let’s give ourselves permission to feel what we feel. If I don’t, those feelings might come back and bite in the ass – again. However the world is, however I am, life does go on. To help me I’ve adopted Regina Brett’s “No matter how I feel, I will get up, dress up and show up”. Regardless of what I’ve said above, words matter.

When I’m feeling lost and iffy I’m grateful to come to the ouija/key board. It helps me find the words/way. It gives me a sense of direction, a true sounding board. I don’t feel quite so adrift, so purposeless afterwards. It is my spacecraft to explore those inner spaces of no easy access. Somehow the rhythm of my taps can loosen unseen barriers and gain me if only just glimpses. Sometimes it can untie a very tight knot and I can unravel myself like a sweater. It is like Aladdin’s lamp, magical.

I’ve learned now not to despair, no matter what. Get up, dress up and show up as best as I can for that day. That is all that is asked of me. And so I sit hear, sipping my tea and tap out a letter, a word. An idea comes. Then a sentence. It’s magic. I see it. Aladdin’s lamp is showing me the way. I do not have to do big. I just have to take that first step, tap out a word, sew one quilt block, splash some paint on the canvas, transplant one tomato, sew one seed….

THE RISING AND FALLING OF THE BAROMETER

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February 23 and day 23 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. It is -6℃ outside and -2.1℃ in the greenhouse. It is 9:22 am. The sun is out but it is weak, like tepid tea. I am not feeling my best but hope it gets better than yesterday. That was a tough one – physically. I can’t be clear and coherent on exactly what was the matter. I really hate to blame the weather but it is the culprit. I’m like a barometer, feeling all the changes. I should stop feeling like I’m using that as an excuse. There is evidence that some people are more susceptible to weather changes.

I usually warn people when I’m feeling this way. When I was still working, I tell people when I’m grumpy and that it has nothing to do with them. Seemed like I was like that alot, especially in the mornings. That’s when I have more pain. Yesterday, I told the guy I was not feeling great, that I felt like screaming so he better be careful. I could not assist him in his Swedish bread making, not even in giving advice. Really, how could I when I haven’t made any. Bread is not bread at that moment. But I did give his dough a poke and thought it was fine.

I’ve just come back from my mother’s to drop off the items she had requested and some of Rod’s Swedish thin bread. She likes them and is more complimentary about them than my bread. My mother is pretty easy. She gives me a list of things to get ahead of time, at my convenience. She always says that she doesn’t need them right away. She doesn’t implore “When are you coming to see me?” It doesn’t bother her being ‘locked down’. She stands out on the steps or opens the windows to get some fresh air. I think my father is bothered but is getting used to it. They are both compromised by their age and health. But being almost 90 they are still pretty darned good. We are grateful.

I am moving through the morning. My tomato seedlings are doing splendidly. I’ved seeded a few heirloom cucumbers this morning. The sunroom is getting too much sun and heat, if that is possible. I had to close the blinds a little. It was aggravating my everywhere pain. Cutting down the spruce trees made a big difference. They were just babies when I planted them. I took no notice as they slowly grew and how much shade they provided over the years until they’re gone. Then wow! There is such as too much of a good thing. It’s good that I have built in blinds in the windows. I can see that I will be using them more in the summer. There is good and not so good with change.

HOPE IS SOMETHING TO DO

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It’s February 22 and the 22nd day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m getting close to the finish line. 6 more days after today. I woke to +4℃ this morning. You wouldn’t think it would be a cause for cursing but it was for me. To me it’s a sign of climate change, unstability and uncertainty. Weve been experiencing both ends of weather extremes within a couple of weeks. I’ve been mostly singing positive tunes no matter what. Perhaps I should continue but wouldn’t it be just like copy and paste? What good would putting on a brave face do, except that?

Maybe it is time for me to change my ways along with the weather. I can’t just keep going on with the same old, same old. Look at what happened in Texas. I have reason to feel despondent in this time but not reason to act so. Now is the time for me to find ways to conserve my energy for things that do serve me rather than take away from me. Perhaps that is what Joanna Macy’s Active Hope is. “Hope is not something to have. Hope is something to do.” I don’t want to mire myself in my muck. I don’t want to stay stuck in my rut. I want to get out of it.

I long have discovered that movement was my getting-out-of-stuck tool, even before Kelly McGonigal wrote The Joy of Movement. Sitting with all my stuck thoughts and feelings was not a solution. They were like the gerbil on its wheel, going round and round. Whereas if I just stood up, I’ve changed my posture. I’ve disturbed something. And if I step outside, I find my spirit lifting even on a cloudy day. I found the joy of a blue sky on my walks with Sheba. Before, I seldom look up to see the sky. I discovered the sensation of flow through swimming. I have lost Sheba but I’m still moving in the great outdoor on cross country skis. I will swim again once the Covid virus has eased. There is always hope to be done.

My Long Keep Tomato seedlings are growing. They have a few new leaves. And the Black Krims are poking their heads above the soil but not so the Jade Dragon Bitter Melon seeds. Perhaps soon. I will seed some cucumbers today for the greenhouse. The climbing vines willl help to shade and keep it cooler on hot summer days. We’ve already had some high temperatures of above 30℃ on sunny afternoons. Last night was the first that it did not go below freezing. Hope in action.

DISILLUSIONMENT AND DISENCHANTMENT

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I hate making lunches, some days more than others. Today is the more. I was wishing for hamburger helpers, frozen pizzas, take-out…

That was my sole effort yesterday at the keyboard. I am suffering from disillusionment and disenchantment with so much that is called the ‘good life’. I’m singing Peggy Lee’s song Is That All There Is?

But I’m also with her about let’s keep on dancing. Let’s break out the booze and have a ball. I know this is a temporary human phase I’m going through. Let me feel and not deny it. What goes up, must also come down. There is only 7 more days to February and the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I will give it my best shot and finish it. Some of my thoughts on it might have changed but finishing has not. It did cross my mind though. I did question why I should finish and what is my purpose anyways. I had no business or service to promote. My tapping was my way of dissipating my stresses. I lost that purpose in the pursuit of more ‘content’. I lost purpose and pleasure in the process.

So let me go back to mumbling. Let me tap out the rhythm and words. The sun is smiling on me. Let me smile back. I have breadcrumbs soaking to make meatballs for lunch. I asked for hamburger helpers yesterday when I had it all along.