Tag Archives: patience

BAD HABITS DIE HARD

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November 1, a new month, a new day. Where am I? I am still lost in the midst of my chaos and clutter. I haven’t given up. I worked myself out of acedia in the month of October. Now that I am no longer wallowing in apathy, I am interested and energized in working my way into some kind of order and clarity. It is not easy as you might have guessed. I have vacuumed the kitchen, dining room and the sunroom. I did it in spurts of starts and stops.

I am in the stop phase, now nursing a cup of decaf. It’s my usual fall-back-on habit so it takes me a long time to do a chore. Bad habits die hard and very slowly. After years and years of this, it is very, very hard to correct. I have to be patient and kind with myself. I have made a start. I have acknowledged my wayward ways. I am dedicating November to work on sorting my paper clutter. This does not mean giving up my other goals of losing weight and piecing my log cabin squares together into a quilt.

My weight loss is nil to minimum. I could lose 1/2 pound one day and gain a pound the next. It is a bit discouraging. I am focusing on staying fit and getting stronger and more flexible. I am focusing on increasing my aerobic workout and maintaining the strength training. I can now do 50 skips at one time jumping rope and run up and down the stairs at the gym 5 times. It’s easier each week. I can aim for 60 skips and 6 times on the stairs on Monday.

I’m piecing 4 quilt squares into a block. I will have 25 blocks in the end. I’m almost there, just 2 blocks left to go. However, I shall stop and have a bit of a rest from everything. My head is buzzing, alerting me that I am over stimulated. I have to drop everything right now.

How It Is

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It rained overnight and is raining still. The garden is drinking it all up. It pays to have patience and faith that our world will survive. I also must have patience and faith that I, too, will survive. Tomorrow will be 8 months that my mother have left us. We are grateful we’ve had her for so long, but it’s never enough. Though I knew her time was near, I didn’t know how to prepare. And how does one do that anyways until it happened?

So I’m piddling along as best as I can. Some days I do/try better/harder than others. Some days I like to completely chill and do nothing. I haven’t been good at that for a very long time. There’s part of me that always want to ‘fix’ and make it better. That’s not bad, I suppose, because it means I’m always hopeful, always seeking. I’m not good at moping though I often feel mopeful. I should really learn not to brood/think so much.

It is both true and false that it gets better with time. But really. When someone as significant as your mother disappears from your life, how do you navigate that? I am a bit lost in this first year of strangeness. Some days are good. Some days are not at all. And that’s how it is with me. Regardless of how the days are, I’ve been alright and functional. For someone who gets lost all the time, I’ve been able to drive myself and my father to and from coffee every day. Most of the time it’s just down the street to the mall.

STARTING OVER

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Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

I have a million and one things to do, to fix, to organize, to…. But I can’t get started. Nothing works – not waiting till tomorrow, not after another cup of tea/coffee. And so I pushed it all towards the back of my mind. It hovers and nags at me continuously. I play repeat – wait till tomorrow and now I am making another cup of decaf. My head is a nest of crawly ants and swarming mosquitoes. How to get some relief?

I think of starting over, turning a new leaf, unbecoming myself. I think of my words for the year – be brilliant and resilient. What would that mean? How to get rid of the ants and mosquitoes and be calm and peaceful? I want to be like Patience and Fortitude sitting through the seasons through all kinds of weather, without a sigh or whisper.

Patience and Fortitude, the “Library Lion” statues, in a December 1948 snowstorm – Wikipedia

The first order of business would seem to be quiet and still – to weather the storm, whatever it may be. The question is how? The first thing that came to mind is James Clear’s Book, Atomic Habits – tiny changes, remarkable results. Instead of thinking big, I could think small. I could do one small thing/day along with my #100dayproject.

I like the word could. It has a positive, hopeful ring to it. Could leads to possibilities and not a dead end. I will follow it.

BOXING DAY 2023

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It’s a beautiful sunny Boxing Day afternoon. All is calm. All is bright. It’s 5℃ out and 6.2℃ in the greenhouse. I’ve seeded a small tray of lettuce greens in anticipation of our present weather trend of warm temperatures and no snow.

I’m deeply immersed in reading A Thousand Acres. Did you know it won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 1992? It was hard to tear myself away to write this post. I’m on a streak of showing up now every day for a week. I don’t want to break the cycle and end up in a slump before January. I’m practicing discipline and succeeding.

I’m not doing as well rehabbing the fasciitis in my foot. It is a very slow process. It is very discouraging since I am faithfully doing the exercises every day. I’m learning patience and forbearance. I have to remember that Rome was not built in a day. And I have been careless and abusive with my feet since summer. So now I have to put in the time to heal it. I have numerous resources on treatment besides YouTube. One thing for sure is there are no quick fixes.

There are no quick solutions to lose some of the holiday fat either. It’s another slow and discouraging process. It keeps coming back again and again like a bad penny. But that’s something we can talk about tomorrow. I have to get back to my book. It’s calling me and I have to get up and move.

WAITING/MEANWHILE

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So..I’ve had my first dental checkup and cleaning since Covid disturbed everything. I had been waiting till things got better but things keep getting worse instead. I ended up going when the numbers of positive are at the highest. But I do have both vaccinations. Looking at the news, the number of positives today is under 400, the lowest in over a week. Though I had a few misgivings about my appointment, I am glad I kept it. The hygienist and dentist were masked and had face shields on. We are all as well protected as possible. It is good for my mental and physical health to keep up the activities of daily living. The hygienist and I had good chats about gardening. We were a good fit.

I’m finally able to have my second cup of tea of the day. I had to wait a couple of hours after fluouride varnish was painted on my teeth. I wouldn’t think it’s such a long time except when I have to wait. Oh, but the tea is so good and warming. Just what I need. I’m having a bit of irksome day. I’m trying to work on my concentration and decluttering. It’s hard when the kitchen sink plugs up and the window venetian won’t open. Then there’s those pesky fruit flies. There seems to be swarms of them around the diningroom table. I’ve set out a glass of diluted wine to leer them away from the kitchen area.

I’m trying to be patient and not fret too much about these things. It’s quite unlike me. I think I am getting a little smarter. I want to work for and not against myself. I couldn’t let things be when they aren’t working. I spent the rest of the afternoon pouring kettle after kettle of boiling water down the kitchen sink in the basement. The trouble lies in that both upstairs and downstairs kitchen sinks are on the same drainage pipe. It leads to easily cloggage if we are not careful. We had to call the plumber last year. I’m hoping we can forego that this time. The hot water is helping a little. We need to do another round of enzyme down the drain tonight and cross our fingers and toes.

That was my muttering on Tuesday. Today is Friday. I’m still working on declogging the kitchen drain. We might have to call the plumber but for now I want to give it and my patience a chance. Nothing is easy or simple. Have I said that already? It is a cool but beautiful sunny morning. I’m looking forward to visit a farm with a high tunnel greenhouse this afternoon. Meanwhile, things are still looking good in our greenhouse. The lettuce I’ve transplanted are looking quite at home. There are 6 bitter melons at various growing stages. At long last I have one viable winter melon. They have been difficult to take. I had quite a few little ones started. I have not been successful at hand pollinating them. The tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers are still being quite productive. My harvest basket overflowth.

And so is my kitchen drain. It is still a problem but it is slowly getting better. It is also teaching me to look at problems in a different way. Problems are also solutions in themselves – if I have patience to wait, observe then try to solve. While I was/am waiting I clear and create a little bit of space in whichever corner I happen to be in.

THE YEAR AHEAD

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These may not be the best of times. It certainly is the strangest of times. Most of all, it is the only time we have. I’m trying to find a way to make the most of it. I’ve been a little frustrated, irritated, a little angry, a little up and a little down, feeling the whole kaleidoscope of emotions. Today I’m feeling more at ease and relaxed. I’ve come through the clouds though it is a cloudy day. No sun at all but it is a mild December day. It is -1 degrees Celsius. It is cooler in the greenhouse, -1.6.

I’ve been frustrated with my clutter, my inefficiency. It seems I’ve been working at it for years. Or have I? I’m probably just spinning in my tracks, going nowhere. I have Stephanie Bennett Vogt’s A Year to Clear on my Kindle app. Maybe it’s time for me to open it and follow it daily. The chapters are in weeks and within days. Surely I can tackle a single day at a time. It will be good training for my errant brain. I really have difficulty concentrating and doing things step by step in order. I often skip the middle of the book and read the ending. I am impatient. I can’t tolerate/enjoy the whole process. Often I don’t make it back to read the whole story.

I’m practicing on being more patient, tapping slowing and patiently on my keyboard. Sometimes my thoughts race ahead of my fingers. It’s torture to proofread but I will start to do that from now on. I’m good at figuring out computer glitches. I tap here and there until everything works. I can’t tell you how or why though. That’s what my brain is like – a mess of synapses snapping away. Order inside and out is what I desire. I will put that down on my list on my Notes app.

The day has progressed into evening. I will shut it down soon. I have opened A Year to Clear. I will take the time to work through the days and weeks. I am taking this week to relax into the process and to reflect on what it is that I want to clear and what to keep. It is not just about stuff. My mind is as cluttered as my dining room table. I will take it slow and easy. I have a whole year ahead.

PATIENCE AND STICK-WITH-IT-NESS

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So here is the thing. Life is full of distractions. My attention span is getting shorter and shorter. I often don’t follow up on my plans and practices. It’s part of my humanness. But here I am, showing up again. This must be part of the practice. I’ve given up on perfection. It’s hard to maintain. It is not possible. There is a flaw in me, everybody and everything else. It is part of the universal struggle. Life and nature happens. That is the law. There is no blame.

I am struggling these August days. Mornings are darker and cooler. I miss the light and warmth of those summer days when the sun rises by 5:00 am. Then, my sunroom was bathed in bright light and warmth. I was infused with its warmth and brightness. My unease is a response, a signal that autumn is on the heels of summer. No need to worry or panic. It is my nature’s response to the shortening of the days and lengthening of the nights. I’ve been this way forever and a day.

It is time for me to accept and come to terms with this part of me. I have. I’m doing so much better after having Sheba in my life. Her physical leaving was difficult but it is nature’s cycle of life and death. Nothing can change that. And so I grieve and miss her. Some days more than others. Then the grief changes. It grows softer and I’m left with those tender precious memory of her spirit and our time together. I sift through the lessons learned and strength gained.

I raised her from scratch at 2 months old – with just one book from the library and a largest dog crate from PetSmart. Boy, it was a tough go for quite awhile. I expected a puppy to have breakfast and walk together with. I did have that but it took years instead of days. There were so many days that I would moan and groan. There were many days that I almost gave up. Her beauty and brain were her saving grace.

She was so pretty. She would shake a paw and then the other paw. She could crawl and roll over in no time. But she did jumped alot and was scared of everything. I knew nothing of dogs. I knew nothing of  a Border Collie Lab mix. Sheba was that EverReady Bunny. We did alot of walking. We went to off leash parks. We got into trouble here and there. I lost 20 pounds with all that exercise.  In the end, she and I were a perfect pair, soul mates. She taught me the rewards of patience and stick-with-it-ness.

I’ve come full circle. I am dogless, Sheba-less. I’m not quite the same though. I am stronger and more accepting of how things are. I am more accepting of how I am. I cannot force myself or others to be other than what we are. But I can change the way I think and see. I can choose to see my glass half full instead of half empty. I can accept my vulnerabilities and work with them instead of fighting against my natural tendencies. It’s sticking with me now. I now longer run away from my shadow self.

 

 

BURNING THE MIDNIGHT OIL

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It is another sleepless night. Somehow I knew it was too easy. It’s only a little over a week since Sheba’s developed her ear hematoma. Two trips to the dog ER to get it drained 21 cc and 11 cc respectively. A followup 2-3 days later resulted in 5 cc drained. All of this has been very draining for all us, humans and canine. Sheba already had a bit of sundowning just before all this happened. Since, the nights have been worse. So the vet suggested a short course of trazodone. It would chill and help her recovery from her ear traumas. It all sounded wonderful but wasn’t. The first day, the trazodone knocked her out. Her legs didn’t really work well. When she was awake, she would pace like a stoned dog. So I decreased her dose a little. Whereas she was restless only at night, she became restless day and night. Our nerves were raw from her ceaseless pacing and banging into things with her head cone.

If something doesn’t work, why keep doing it? After 4 days on the trazodone, I stopped it. Sheba slowly became more her old self during the day. She would lay down on her pillows by herself. Hope was on the horizon. We leased her to the piano leg at night so she could not pace and bang around. We need some sleep. It worked last night. We all slept in till 8 in the morning. Hallelujah, right?

Today’s or rather yesterday’s vet checkup showed that she does have an ear infection. A good reason to rejoice. There was a cause , therefore an end to all this misery we’re going through. We were jubilant and came home armed with earwash, antibiotic eardrops and oral antibiotics. Earlier in the day my order of melatonin for Sheba and some for me came. I dosed us each with 3 mg. All was well. Sheba settled and relaxed on her pillow. Then it was bedtime. I took Sheba out for her business.

The disappointment was keen. But at least I had 2 hours of sleep when I woke and heard her panting. Perhaps I should have ignored her but I was never good at it. She gets more stressed and worked up. Then she starts barking. Yes, she is a smart dog. She knows how to get attention. But she is 13 and has an infection. Human elders with infection do the same. So here I am, sitting on the stool beside her. I’m tap, tapping away, hoping for a better day. It is almost 4 am. She is at least relaxed and laying down.

Things feel very difficult at times but they are getting better. Her ear has stopped bleeding. Surgery is not needed. The underlying cause has been discovered. Treatment has started. Nothing is easy nor simple. Hope her night time anxiety and restless with improve with melatonin increased omega 3’s. I am doing fairly well with all this. When I accept what is, I am less stressed and more at peace with it. This is what we have to do. One day at a time. Sheba deserves the best from me. She has and still is giving me much joy.

 

SITTING UP WITH THE FUR BABY

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So I’m sitting up with Sheba tonight. She’s been through a lot the last 2 days. Sunday morning we noticed her left ear was swollen like a perogy. We took her in to the ER at the Veterinary College. She was diagnosed with an aural hematoma. They drained 21 cc of bloody fluid from her ear under sedation. She was a very sleepy dog after. Though she walked out to the reception area under her own steam, her legs gave out right after. She sank to the floor in a puddle. She had to be carried out to the truck and then into the house.

I thought for sure she would have a speedy recovery, that it would not recur so soon. I was wrong! Though her ear was tightly bandaged and she was so sleepy, somehow she managed to worked her ear out by morning. And she was still pretty groggy, plastered to the floor in the hallway. To our dismay her earlobe looked full again though not quite as bad as before. So after hemming, hawing and talking to the vet clinic, we took her back in late afternoon. They drained 11 cc this time without sedation. We were happy that she was not so zonked but now I’m not sure. A tad sleepy would be ok.

I’m not complaining. It’s possible that she got whacked in the ear by my twirling hula hoop. I couldn’t see. She was behind me but I heard a thump. I don’t know where she got hit. I was surprised that she would get so close to a moving thing. Usually she is afraid of strange moving objects. Ear infections could also cause hematomas but her ears are clear and clean. So I do feel responsible. My poor baby.

She’s finally laid down on her fat pillow with her chin resting on her cone. I’m holding my breath as I sit beside her tap, tapping on the keyboard. Maybe I can make a quiet trip to the bathroom, lay down, turn out the lights and get some shut eye.

It was about 40 minutes of sleep for her. I almost got off to zzz. That’s when I heard the bang of her cone on the floor. Oh well, it was enough to ease the tension between my brows. Good enough! I got up and gave her a couple of spoonfuls of rice, hoping some carbs would mellow her out. It worked the last time. I had some toasted sourdough bread. I shared some crumbs with her. I cannot insist and force how she, a dog should be. It would only stress both of us out. So I let her just wander and bang about, making sure she does not hurt herself. She will get tired again and have another lay down.

Patience, I tell myself.  I can be calm. She can see that I’m here and everything is ok. I thought about giving her something for pain but googling tells me human painkillers are no no for dogs. It’s so typical that we caretakers are left up the creek without a paddle. When I asked the vet doctor about something pain, she said to call first. In the middle of the night that I would go to the vet pharmacy? Situations don’t change for human or canine patients.

I just have to suck it up and accept the situation. Tomorrow will be better. Sheba’s ear will feel better. The bandage and cone will not bug her as much. She won’t be so pissed off. I’m just pulling a night shift, sitting with my child who has a head injury. Once in awhile we go out for ‘potty’ , stretch our legs and a change of scene. It will wear off some of her anxiety. It’s the afternoon walk we never got the last two days. She’s getting good at navigating the deck stairs with that thing on her head.

I’m off to make myself a cup of tea and maybe a bit more sourdough toast. It’ll be breakfast. Maybe Sheba will get another mouthful of rice and fall asleep. I’m not in any rush. I have nothing to do. I have nowhere to go. We can sleep in the morning. It’s not long off.

 

WEEKEND MUTTERINGS

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I’ve never ever found an optimum time for doing anything or an easy time for starting something. Truth be told, I’m a daydreamer, a doodler, lounger, wistful thinker. In short I’m a procrastinator, trying to hold life at bay. What is this fear of starting and living?, I ask myself. I have no clue, no inkling of an idea but just this physical discomfort of not wanting to commit. Laugh if you will but we all know that he who laughs first, laughs last. I am sure you have that procrastinator in you, too. Only you haven’t recognized yourself in the mirror.

I see myself as molasses in winter mode. It is cool this morning. I see my little cucumber plants shivering in the raised bed in the front yard. First the heat. Now the chill. I hope they make it. I’ve never had much luck with them except for one year. Now that’s something to aim for. Something to get my juices flowing and off my butt. It takes patience and persistence to succeed at anything. My cyclamen is such a testament. I gave it the attention it needed. I don’t have a steady supply of that either. It comes in sporatic spurts. I’m not good when the going gets tough. Sometimes I abandon ship. Now that’s another thing to work on.

It’s another morning. I’ve clearly abandoned ship yesterday before finishing this conversation. I’m going through a spell. I’m lacking motivation. Nothing turns me on but I’m working on it. I feel as if I can’t even get myself out of a wet paper bag. Sometimes I just have to put in the effort as if I do love it, whether I feel it or not.  That’s life. What is it that gets you up and going? What are your secrets for joie de vivre? What keeps you on the job till it’s finished?

I’m sipping on my cuppa, my favourite diversion for not doing. I’m glued to my chair but at least I am flexing my fingers, tapping on the keyboard. I’m trying to stay awake, thinking of how to overcome my inertia, how not to feel overwhelmed about our climate crisis. What else can I do not to contribute to the carbon footprint? How can I get outside of myself to help the world I live in. These are some of my thoughts on this sunny cool June morning. Perhaps I can bake some rhubarb crisp to warm up. I’ve been making rhubarb sour cream muffins the last 2 days but I’ve run out of sour cream.