still trying

BEYOND WORDS

 

I am here again, though somewhat reluctantly. I am like a well/river gone dry. I have little water/words to give. My flow is gone and I am stuttering along, scraping the bottom for dregs of wisdom/experience. I show up once in awhile to stir the pot, aggitate the scene a little to see what will come alive. I hope I still have some sparks left. I’m still taking my Omega 3’s, 1,000 mg. three times a day. Sheba is, too. We old gals need our fish oils to keep our brains and hips lubricated and working. Life can be a hard grind. I see it Sheba’s stiff and slow rise each morning.

I can’t hold back our advancing years and hips, no matter how much and hard I try. But I can slow it down a bit. We might not be as agile as in our youth. We can no longer jump and leap as well, but we can at least try to stay strong and land on our feet.  It has been and still is an interesting and fulfilling ride. We still love and do many things. There have been times though that have been tough, painful and boring. What goes up must also come down. That is nature and the law. Would we want it any other way?

So I sigh a lot, bitch a little and carry on the best I can. I still love words, the tap, tap, tap of my fingers on the keyboard and seeing the letters march across my computer screen. I am thrilled when I get a lightbulb moment, tickled by a clever phrase that pops into my head. And when I find that photo that brings everything together, I am beyond words. In other words, I am elated. The struggle is worth the effort.

 

CHAOS AND ART

August 2

It’s a hot one today – 33 degrees Celsius at present. It seems like a good day to do laundry to hang outside. The mattress protector I hung a short while ago seemed almost dry so I put in a load of sheets. I’m sure the protector will be dried to a crisp by the time the load is done. Sheba is underfoot, fussing for her walk, but it is hot, hot, hot. It is not a good idea. We will be burnt to a crisp. I hope no one has to work outside in the heat.

I’m watching the cars whizzing by on Preston Avenue. Sheba finally settle on her pillow. We are fairly comfortable with the furnace fan on. I have my glass of water nearby. After a cool beer, I’m feeling mellow. I’m conserving energy, not working up a sweat. Everything not an emergency can just be. They can keep for a rainy day.

August 6

Today is that rainy day, though it was a short one this morning. It was not a wise decision to keep everything for a rainy day. My head has been in a fine kettle today. The clouds and dark skies gave me the willies. Clearly it was not a day for brain surgery. I found some solace in the light from the kitchen window and the fluorescent light above the sink. It was also soothing folding towels though the pile of it was daunting at first. It’s the taking of one at a time, smoothing and folding it that helped clear a bit of the mess in my head.

 

Now it’s almost at the end of the day. Seems like it took me all day to do very little. I still have a whole mess on the diningroom table. When didn’t I have one, eh? Having the fridge go on us didn’t help. Finding one to fit the same space was impossible. That meant making the space fit a new fridge. Things had to come out of a cupboard in order to shorten it. The dining room table is always handy for that. Everything seems to find their way there. It’s probably not that bad but my head can’t deal with sorting or looking at it.

I have paid the bills though and made the 2 must-make phone calls. It was a struggle, making myself sit still at the desk to do all that. Needless to say, my desk area is still a flipping jungle. I’m not saying that’s who I am, but it is how I am now. I’m trying. I’ve slipped. I will again and again. I will try and try again to get back on track. I will work on it tomorrow. In the chaos and brain thing, I still was able to create a little bit of art today. Hurray for me.