It’s April 30th, the last day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m happy to be here at a happy ending. I achieved all that I set out to do. I kept it simple. I kept it easy. I showed up almost every day, missing just 3. I tried my best. I had a beginning, a middle and now an ending. It was nice to meet some new friends as well as reconnecting with past ones. What more could a girl ask for?
I’ve had a busy day starting with the gym in the morning. I worked the hula hoop and skip rope into my routine. It’s good to challenge myself with new stuff. I’ll see if practice does make for better. Then it was going for groceries and then lunch with my exercise buddies. You know lunch with the girls can last for a couple of hours. I was home for a few minutes when I got a text from my brother. Dad had fallen in the livingroom while he was there. He couldn’t get up by himself but was not hurt. Still I worried.
I went over to see for myself. He was lucky that my brother was there when he fell and lucky he was not hurt. I asked him to show me how he was on the floor so I can teach him how to get up. Good thing I had such good instructors at the Y gym on functional fitness. Dad was a good pupil. He was able to learn how to get into a position so he could use a piece of furniture to get himself up. After all that we had to go to the mall for a walk and a coffee. We ran into Mom’s coffee friends there and the time just went.
I’m home now, sitting with a chrysanthemum tea and tapping a few last words. I’m tired. It’s been a hard year but it’s been a good April. I’m glad I participated in this UBC. It’s helped me regain some peace and mental strength being here every day tapping on my keyboard and reading others’ offerings. Sorting through ideas, words and feelings have dispelled some brain fog. It’s good to be able to think clearly again. I feel blessed to be here now.
Another warm day but not the 34℃ of yesterday. 27℃ is plenty warm enough. The sun is somewhat hazy and there’s smoke in the air. I’m not feeling in a super mood. I’m trying to work through it. It’s a good thing that I have the Ultimate Blog Challenge to explore all this.
Have I ever mentioned that I have never loved summer? It goes way back to my childhood days growing up in Maidstone. We were one of maybe 3 Chinese families in town. We didn’t socialize much with the rest of the community being new immigrants. Our cafe was opened every day except Sunday, all year long. We never went anywhere except maybe North Battleford (an hour’s drive away) once in a blue moon for dentist, optometrist and maybe a little shopping.
Summer time the town seemed dead. The farmers were out farming. School was over. Seemed like everyone went to the lake or on holidays except us. I ordered books from the library which came on the Greyhound bus. I read alot of Laura Ingalls Wilder books, Trixie Beldon books, Hardy Boys books and alot of Superman comics and movie star magazines. I drew portraits of Elvis, Fabian and Ricky Nelson. I can’t remember what else I did during those long hot summers.
Another reason I did not care for summers was being hot, I couldn’t wear long sleeves or sweaters to hide the scar on my left arm. I got the scar when I was 2 years old. We were still in China then. I was scalded by a bowl of hot sweet syrup. It was winter and I had long sleeved top on. It was difficult to get it off. Doctors were not the common thing then. My burn would not heal for a long time. Someone advise taking me to a doctor. My arm healed, resulting in a large scar but I have full function. I didnot lose any range of motion but I did get teased.
I was very sensitive about it for a long time. I tried to imagine what it would feel like unscarred. I couldn’t since I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have the scar. I finally got over it when I became a nurse. All the uniforms were short sleeved. I was by then at the ripe age of 27/28. Took a long time to get over it. You can see dumb I was in this photo – how I turned my left arm in to hide the scar. I was not holding it naturally like my aunt behind me.
All these were long ago but feelings and memories linger still. They feel like part of my biology. But at least I understand the where, when and how. And I have this space to tap it onto the page. Then I don’t feel so bad.
It’s is a very cold, cold day here in Saskatoon. This morning Environment Canada posted a temperature of -40℃. The wind chill made it feel like -53℃. Double and triple burrrrr! Made me think of the winters of 2009 and 2010 when Sheba and I did daily walks down by the river at the Sutherland dog park. The river was frozen over. We could walk on it. Sheba ran, of course. Steam rose from the river. I had icicles hanging in my nostrils.
The cold brought back these wonderful memories of our times down by the river. Tomorrow promises equally cold temperatures. I do love these times when I can just hunker down and just be. Feeling grateful I have shelter, heat and food. Day 12 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge in the bag!
It’s a sunny Christmas Eve afternoon. There’s no sign of a white Christmas. I’m making sticky rice as my contribution to our family meal at my brother’s this evening. I’m not at all in a yuletide mood. But my mind is cast back to my childhood memories of winter solstice and New Year in China.
Though we have left China behind, my mother have kept some of the traditions alive. Now that she can no longer make the traditional dishes, she has instilled the love of Chinese food in me. Enough so that I can sort of fake a dish or two. There’s YouTube now with instructions for any dish you can think of. It’s too late for Winter Solstice but I can make rice dumplings for New Year’s. Chinese New Year would even be better. It would give me more time to prepare. Here’s an excellent video on how.
New Year was an exciting time for me as a child. All the aunties would get together on the eve and spend the night cooking up all kinds of pastries. I can still hear the murmur of their voices as they tend the fire and pots while I lay upstairs in bed, fighting sleep. It was a magical time. I would wake in the morning to find a new outfit to wear and a little red envelope.
Now back to my sticky rice. I use a fail-safe recipe by Amy and Jacky. It is cooking in the Instant Pot after a little mishap. I was forgetful and not paying attention. I started pouring water into the pot then realizing the liner pot was not in it! Lucky it was just a little water and it came out the bottom. I was afraid it might short circuit the electrical and wreck the pot. I used my hairdryer to blow dry everything. It worked. Saved for another day!
Funny how some things pop into your life. The other day, someone mentioned she read Pearl Buck’s The Good Earth. I am reminded that I do have it on my bookshelf and I have read it. But I cannot remember any of it. Then this morning, there’s an article about Pearl S. Buck on my Facebook feed. It was very interesting. It prompted me to search for the book. And I did find it, a little paperback costing $.95 published in 1973. It’s still in very good condition though the pages are yellow and the print small. It is a book that I had borrowed from a friend while I was visiting her in Vancouver many years ago. I’ve not returned it nor have read it, as I now discovered.
I don’t know why I hadn’t read it. It is quite good. I’ve read 5 chapters this morning. It reminded me of the China I knew. I am surprised that I remembered so much, having left when I was 6 years old. I felt quite at home in the story of the poor farmer, his wife and his father. I felt I was there with them, though we were not the poor farmers. I guess we were considered well off if not rich. We had this big house that my grandfather had built. It had 2 stories with a copula on top. It housed our family on one side and the other half was occupied by my grandfather’s brother’s family. The windows had metal shutters. The front door was also of metal. Our house had a courtyard surrounded by a wall.
Looking at the photo and the memories, it feel like it was someone else’s life. It also made me feel nostalgic and lonesome for that Chinese part of me that was left behind. Anyways, it is too late in the day to ponder and wander through the past. Perhaps I will have more time tomorrow. I feel very busy at this end of life. Time seems to tick slower when I was young. Now it’s speeding faster and faster like the end of a toilet roll.
April 15th. The month is half gone. It felt like it’s just started. I’m showing up in this writing space for the Ultimate Blog Challenge even though I’m feeling melancholic. I hope it is not catchy. I don’t want to pass it on. I can blame it on the time of day. It’s 6:31pm. They say that after 3 pm our energy and mood goes south. It’s true for me. I’m a morning person now after years of being a night owl. The sun has set for me though the weather app says sunset is at 8 pm. Try to tell that to my body and mind.
I’m not ecstatic that I’m such a somber person. I would really like to have a different temperament. I envy those bouncy, bubbly life-of-the-party gals. But I just can’t make myself into one, or make myself like parties. I guess the next best thing is to accept myself as is and learn to like it/me. I’ve been drawing my life in the 100 day project challenge. I’m getting to know the lines and curves of mine and my family’s faces. I feel the stories of our lives through the drawings. Sometimes it makes me happy. Sometimes it makes me sad. It depends on the story.
The drawings evoke the loneliness of an immigrant family living in a small community. I’m speaking only from my own viewpoint. I’m feeling it more as a very matured adult. I don’t think I felt it when I was growing up and going to school. I remember vividly my first inkling. It was after the summer of Grade 12. Our family had moved to New York to be with my mother’s family. I decided to come back by myself to attend university in Saskatoon. My father was still in our town to sell our house. I went to some town celebrations at the fair grounds with a friend. It was there that I felt my first experience of not belonging, of not being noticed. That feeling comes and goes. I like to think that I was wrong but I’m not. Many years later, in the fair recent present, I have been back to my home town a few times. The people that I knew, except for a few classmates, do not know me or who my father was.
Every once in awhile a memory would arise and evoke a feeling. It is not lethal. It is good to remember my place and who I was/am in this world. I remember and I feel strong and happy to be the person I’ve been and the person I’ve become. It’s been and is a very good life.
I overdid the skiing today, going twice around the golf course. I was aiming to increase my endurance. I know I cannot get any faster. I know I am a tortoise. I felt pretty good after my second round. No sweat! I thought even though I was quite sweaty. I was counting on relaxing and stretching in our mobility class at the gym shortly after. I didn’t count on our instructor changing things around. The mobility class was yesterday. Today’s was on upper body which was not stretching or relaxing.
I am physically tired but I am relaxed after a long soak with epsom salt. My brain is too relaxed and a bit mushy. I am not sharp or focused. I caught an interesting podcast whilst soaking on Tapestry. In this episode Karen Armstrong talks about the value of wonder in a despairing world. Give it a listen if you have time. It is very interesting. It made me think about this morning on the ski trail. I love snapping photos. I want to capture the magic to hold and look at again. It is impossible, of course, but I still try.
It was very foggy today. The grey of the sky was so soft and velvety and the trees with the hoar frost…I was gazing at it all. Then a woman glided by. Her jacket was a peacock blue, so bright and luminous. So beautiful. I tried to capture the wonder of it. She glided away faster than I can dig my camera out of my ski pants. I resigned myself to watch the wonder and beauty of the moment. It did occur to me that I might be just a wonder, too, in my tangerine red ski jacket. I felt awe by the wonder of it.
There are many wonders around us and in our lives that can give our spirits a boost. Sometimes all we need to do is to stop, sit, listen, watch and remember. I’m thinking back again to March of 2011 and my memories of time in Ghana. I’m remembering some of the wonders of that time.
Last Week – March 31, 2011
I’m on a countdown of my days in Ghana. In exactly one week I will be winging my way back home. Before I came, someone asked me if I have been in a Third World country before. I guess they were worried about how I will fare. Or maybe it was because they were surprised on their first trip here and wantedme to be prepared. And since I’ve been here, people have asked how do I like Ghana. Does anything about it resonate with me? Hard questions to answer. Well, not hard to answer on a superficial level. As a tourist it is easy to say that I love my stay here. I can hear the ocean from my bed and the breezes are warm and soothing. Everything is new to me….my physical surroundings, the people, the politics, the colours…..everything.
On a much more personal level, I am unable to tell what it is that I feel about Ghana. I have not been homesick the time I’ve been away. I have not missed my suspended life….the cold or snow. I have not missed my work. You can say that I am really away. I do miss my family and my Sheba. At times, I would really like to have free running clean water from the faucet….water that I can drink and to brush and rinse my teeth with in abundance! And I wouldn’t mind having hot water to shower or shampoo my hair with. So, I’m learning to really appreciate what a valuable resource water is. And I would be able to have that most of the time, had I been staying in an upscale hotel instead of an eco-lodge. I’m not feeling that this has been a hardship or a deprivation. It has been an experience. I have a very privileged life back home. And I can have a very privileged life here if I choose. The question, of course, is do I wish such? I have always enjoy hard work and being an independent woman.
One week left! Impossible to know if I will miss Africa till I leave it and see..….
I drank too much coffee today. I forgot myself and didn’t specify that I wanted a decaf when I ordered my breakfast. Since they’ve already poured it, I didn’t want to make a fuss. When I went for a refill, I forgot again! I’ve been a little jittery since I got home. I’m drinking hot water like mad to flush it out of my system. I hope I can sleep tonight. There was a time when I drank coffee all day long at work, came home and had a large mug of coffee before bed and never think of it. Of course in those days of when I was a nurse, I never slept much. I took pride in how well I functioned on how little I slept. I’m sure that I was brain damaged then.
When I retired in 2013 I crashed. The sleep deprivation, stress and everything that was suppressed by fatigue all caught up with me. It took 3 years to catch up all the sleep I missed and to flush the caffeine, the stress and anxiety I had absorbed working in a hospital environment. I also took pride in how well I functioned having crashed so totally and heavily. How foolish and vain I was. Perhaps it’s that Chinese trait of saving face in me. It would have been easier and healthier if I had just stop, curled up and rested. But I guess that’s not who I was/am. Today I am still taking pride in striving, but I am more moderate and balanced.
I haven’t drank this much coffee since until today. I think I will be OK. It’s only 2 medium cups whereas in my younger golden days, it was many, many cups. It was my way of staying awake and on my feet. I still like to be alert and on my feet but I don’t need the caffeine to do it now. It’s fresh air and exercise. I had plenty this morning on the ski trail. It was early and I was all alone in a white winterland. It was beautiful. It was wonderful. It was marvelous.
Hmm. I’ve had another cup of hot water. I think I’ve tapped out much of my jitteriness. I think I will do some stretches to further relax me. I’ve been sharing thoughts and memories from 2011 this month. I will carry on the theme. Today’s share is on retirement.
THIS THING CALL RETIREMENT – OCT. 1, 2011
Retirement has been on my mind for awhile now. It seems like that is what we should strive for….all our lives. There is this message to work hard so that one day in the far off distance, we can finally do what we REALLY want to do. I don’t hear THEM, whoever they are, talk about doing the thing that we want now. And why don’t we?
I’m feeling that it is not yet my time to retire from my profession. There is still things for me to do and learn within that framework. And to tell the truth, I still love what I do. I’m feeling power in that knowledge. I’m feeling a great sense of freedom….to do what I like and to stop when I don’t. I’m rethinking what ‘work’, ‘retirement’ and life mean. I don’t think one needs to stop working in order to have a life. One needs to do what gives him a sense of worth, a sense of joy, accomplishment…..to have a life. And of course, we need balance. Too much of anything, even a good thing like work or leisure time, is not what living is all about.
And do we ever truly retire…from life? I hope not. I hope that when I am ‘tired’ of, or not physically able to work my present profession, I will find another something or another that has given me so much in return.
Monday afternoon. I’m sitting here in the middle of my chaos trying to tap out some words for today’s post. The dishes are not done. The pot of turkey soup is still sitting on the stove. But I have had my ski in the park. What I know for sure is no matter how tired or rotten I feel, a ski in the park can do wonders for my well being. It can build me up so I can tolerate the slings and arrows coming my way.
I got my cup of tea. I’m ready to write, but wait. Oh, darn! I have to hang up the load of laundry I did this morning. It’ll be just a few minutes and I’ll be back. And so it goes. Life can get better than this. I am sure but right now, I’m still struggling
I am doing the best I can. I am doing damn good actually though I do have my quirky moments. I haven’t been fortunate enough to have a ready ear when I need it but I am that ear that listens. It’s not a bad thing. I must be a good listener. I hope so. I’m lucky I have this space to tap, breathe and revitalize. The keyboard has been one of my best friends. It’s been talking and breathing for me for a long time. It tells my stories and stores them in a memory bank. Thank goodness for that. It’s keeping me afloat for this writing challenge. Here’s another memory from Ghana.
LAST DAYS –April 16, 2011
And so…I’m having one of my quirky, restless moments. Often, it doesn’t help to talk with anyone. Most times, nobody is at home. And when I was messing with FB and my mouse, I ended up with friends I didn’t think I asked for. I had to use the remove button. I wonder if anybody noticed. Ooops! I didn’t think I was that discerning, afterall, don’t numbers matter…the more friends, the better? And so here I sit, with my glass of wine alone on a Saturday night. Does it matter at this stage in one’s life? I’m remembering all my self-help stuff and thought: Now is the time for it ….. The Four Agreements. The fourth one being, always do your best, no matter what the best is at the moment. My best for this moment is to wine and write away my quirk.
Idid not fully appreciate or use the beach at Escape Three Points in Ghana till the end of my vacation. There was this day when there were no guests and everyone else had gone somewhere else surfing or some other place. I was alone for a few hours with only the workmen working on the foundation for a new chalet and girls in the kitchen. The beach was empty….my moment had come. I waded into the shallow pool between the rocks and sat down. It was not an easy process for the rocks were uneven and rough on the bottom and the water was quite buoyant. I bobbed up and down a few times before I could get myself set down. The water came up to my neck. It felt wondrous. After awhile I thought maybe I should give swimming ago or at least float on my back. But I was ALONE. I thought I better not fool around with an ocean and no life jacket. The surf can be very strong, even though I was protected by the surrounding rocks.
Instead I started jogging up and down the hard sandy part of the beach. It felt a bit eery as I was totally alone, under the African sun. I ran up and down the beach. When I got hot, I ran into the water and let incoming tide cool me. When I got tired, I waded into the pool and sat down, sometimes hanging onto a rock when the tide got strong. Then I got up and did my jogging again, and so on….Towards noon, I headed back to the chalet, got my buckets and headed to the well to draw some water for a shower. I just nicely got myself showered and laundry on the line when the sky got dark and I experienced my first real African rainstorm. And did it rain! I got the laundry inside, lowered the grass blinds to keep the rain from coming in through the screen only windows. I climbed up to the loft to move the mattress away from the rain splattering in since there was no blind for the upstairs screen. I collected rain water.
The storm did end and so has my quirkiness. But I better clean the house like a storm. Back to work too soon!
Day 16 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. The sky is grey and snow is coming down. I’ve forgotten how grey and dreary November can be. The snow is welcome. It will brighten up the landscape. I am remembering another scene – of snow falling on the cedars. They were really spruce trees but they’re close enough. The phrase had caught and stuck in my head after seeing the movie. The cedars/spruce are gone. I’m missing them today. It’s nostalgia for those trees and what has past.
The trees are gone and Sheba also. I’m remembering and missing her today. She loved nosing and messing around and under the spruce trees winter or summer. She didn’t mind the snow or cold. We were out almost every day in all kinds of weather. We were as regular and dependable as the mailman.
The snow is still falling but not on the cedars. It is a good day for tapping out the memories. It is a good day for eating spicy pumpkin chili, drinking hot chocolate and curling up with a good book. Maybe later I can coax myself downstairs and finish shortening my new snow pants. Maybe tomorrow will be a good day for cross-country skiing.
onethousandandtwo 