Tag Archives: hula hoop

Slothful Thanksgiving Monday

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A cold Thanksgiving Monday. It went down to -2℃ but we are now sitting at 1℃. There’s a layer of ice in the water buckets sitting outside the greenhouse. We have a little heater to keep the temperature above freezing in the greenhouse. I want my little bottle gourds to get big enough to eat. Thankfully no more below 0 in the forecast for the next week. But it will be cool with the high no higher than 13℃.

I’m feeling the hibernation response. I’m slow to rise in the morning, burrowing in the warmth of the duvet. The cold, the grey and a holiday are good excuses for skipping the gym this morning. It’s a good reason to have a second cup of tea. I’m feeling drowsy. I’m slow as a sloth. I don’t think I can slither down a tree even if I have to. At least my fingers are tapping out words for another Ultimate Blog Challlenge post but I am in danger of nodding off.

I have the beginning of soup in the Instant Pot. I threw in what’s left of a roasted chicken, leftover roast pork, some beef bones and tomatoes. I rescued a few stalks of celery from the raised bed. They’re sitting in some water, waiting to be washed and put in the mix. I will have to get up, run up and down the stairs a few times to wake up. I will do a few rounds of hula hoop. I dream of being a hoola hoop queen. I think I have to settle for just being able to keep it up and going. I do hope and aim at being able to walk and hoola at the same time. I wonder if I have enough time.

Working on Living

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Yesterday was a hard day. I finished reading What My Father and I Don’t Talk About. It was a great read of 16 writers’ essays on their fathers. However, it left me feeling more melancholic than usual. I would still like to read What My Mother and I Don’t Talk About though we had talked plenty. I am sure that she had not told me everything. Now, I can’t ask her. I am still travelling in the landscape of the bereaved. Some days are harder than others. The heat and humidity made it harder yesterday. I know that life goes on no matter how I feel. The world still spins on its axis. The sun still rise and set each day. And so must I – rise to the challenges of living and then rest when tired.

I took my father out for lunch yesterday. I didn’t realize it was Canada Day but it worked out well. At least I can say that’s how I celebrated our country’s birthday when people ask. I’m not big on celebrations. I am a true humbug. I think that came from being an immigrate child of immigrants. We were poor starting out in this country. We didn’t celebrate birthdays, Christmas, New Year, Easter, and Thanksgiving like everybody else. On Canada Day, we didn’t join in the town’s festivities. So I do think that as a child, I must have felt left out, odd, not belonging, etc. etc.

I tried hard yesterday not to languish in my melancholia. I tackled 2 bags of my mother’s clothes laying dormant on the basement floor. It wasn’t too bad, not worsening my mood. The clothes stirred up some good and happy memories of mom in her younger years. Now, I see her vibrant and happy in my mind’s eye. For me, sorting the 2 bags was a big accomplishment and enough for one day.

Today, I am feeling better. The heat is still on but there’s not the humidity/heaviness weighing me down. There is a breeze. I am okay. I went to the gym this morning. Worked the weights. Worked on skipping techniques. Worked on hula hooping. I can talk and hula at the same time. Now to hula while walking. That’s another thing. So meanwhile I am working on feeling social and feeling good. I’m going to sock it to life.

PS. I am also working on the Ultimate Blog Challenge.