I had a lovely sleep last night and woke to a typical cold, -27℃ sunny January morning. Not too many of these left – the typical or the January. I’m feeling a bit of nostalgia for the old and familiar. Yesterday, Sheba’s photo popped up on Facebook from memories of 5 years ago. It was enough for my eyes to mist and my heart ache with missing her. It is not a bad thing, remembering love of my precious puppy. No matter how old she was, she’s always my puppy girl. I feel lucky that I have known such love.
Then in the evening, we watched Hanover Street with Harrison Ford, Christopher Plummer and Lesley-Anne Down. It was a movie made in 1979, a movie starting with the credits and ending with THE END. Surprising to see Harrison Ford and Christopher Plummer looking so young and lithesome. The romance was romantic with no raw eroticism. They left something for our imagination. The heroes were heroes to the end. It was so refreshing to escape from our present madness for just awhile.
Now I’m back to my real world. I hope I can get real enough to tend to my housekeeping chores after I’m finished here. I’ve been procrastinating and evading. I’m ending up with more boxes of ‘stuff’ because I don’t know what else to do with them. Every night I plan to deal with them in the morning. Every morning I feel overwhelmed looking at the mess of them. There is no good time and no good way to do it. No use checking out ‘how tos’ or Marie Kondo. I just have to DO it. Wish me luck. I cleaned out one storage unit of art supplies yesterday. Yay!
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.
It’s Saturday morning, grey and overcast. No sun yet. It evokes in me feelings from the song, Sunday Morning Coming Down – nostalgia and hung over, feelings of a misspent youth, and memories of early university days.
Yes, those days were somewhat misspent but not wasted. No, I never finished and got a degree. But it was an education all the same. And it was fun in a painful sort of way. I got to explore the world, getting lost and found and lost again but not forever. I got to taste the bitter along with the sweet. I discovered I had appeal but never believed it.
I was a fool and a saint. I was an innocent and innocent of the fact. Someone up there looked after me! And I came out alright.
It is Saturday morning and it is snowing tiny snow flakes. Enough of nostalgia and wallowing in memories. On with the day. Forward, march!