THE RISING AND FALLING OF THE BAROMETER

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.

WEREN’T WE BEAUTIFUL

I am having a bit of a struggle this morning just with the thought of being in ‘locked down’. My daily life activities have not really changed all that much. I do miss not being able to go to the library, swimming Saturday mornings and our Monday, Wednesday and Friday exercise class at the YWCA. The thought of not being able to get closer than 6 feet of another living human being (other than the ones you’re living with) makes me feel claustrophobic and breathless. It’s much like the time I accidentally locked myself in the car. I was in a  panic then. Even Sheba was taking up too much of my air. I had to roll the window down and stick my head out.

I had a talk with myself just a little while ago, put a load in the laundry, made myself a cup of tea and here I am with the poem of the day. The words are beautiful,  bringing to mind of different days and different times. I know the wisdom of being in the NOW. But it is also in our nature to look back as well as ahead. We are a sum of our total experiences. Our body registers pleasure moments as well as those frightful ones that come back to haunt us long after they are gone. It’s healing to recall those golden times evoked by photographs and poetry. I can close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, feel the breeze in my hair. I feel the vitality of my youth and the presence of my cousin next to me.

Now I’m soothed and smoothed, sipping another cup of tea. I’m no longer breathless and panicky. I can still feel the warmth of those sunny golden days and the presence of my cousin on this earth, knowing she is an angel in heaven.

Were’t We Beautiful

growing into ourselves
earnest and funny we were
angels of some kind, smiling visitors
the light we lived in was gorgeous
we looked up and into the camera
the ordinary things we did with our hands
or how we turned and walked
or looked back we lifted the child
spooned food into his mouth
the camera held it, stayed it
there we are in our lives as if
we had all time
as if we would stand in that room
and wear that shirt those glasses
as if that light
without end
would shine on us
and from us.

– Marjorie Saiser