One/Some Day Soon

Posted on September 28, 2024 by hafong

It’s another day. Not too many dollars but the sun is out this morning. But then it is almost 9 am. So, no hurrahs. I’m sounding grouchy. I should be more grateful. It is almost October and no hints of imminent frost. I still have tomatoes, zucchinis and pumpkins on the vine. The purple beans are still producing, though not madly now. My raised bed of peppers are heavily laden with peppers. I have new lettuce and Swiss Chard and possibly more cabbage.

I am full of gratitude for my garden bounty. Still, I’m irked. My kitchen sink is not draining well. My upstairs landline for the phone is not working. Seems like a long hike to the basement phone when it rings. And it is in the laundry room. The technician is coming Monday. Maybe it is time to rid of it if the problem has to do with the wiring of the house and not the Sasktel line. But it is hard to let go of an old established security blanket/line.

Maybe I should call a plumber one/some day soon. But not yet. It is still draining. I’ve poured vinegar and kettles full of hot boiling water. I shall have my cup of tea, mutter and procrastinate. I just know that I will have to make that call. But not yet. In the meantime I’ve poured down more vinegar. Let it sit. Wouldn’t it be a delightful surprise if it does the trick?

I’m trying to curb my procrastation ways and stop saying phrases like One/Some day I will…. Those days never come. So while the sun is shining I am going to tackle putting my garden spaces to rest. Today all the tomatoes will be harvested. And the beans as well. I’ve had enough beans. They’re coming down. I see that there’s a -1 forecast for Friday. If time permits, I will harvest the carrots in the community garden today or tomorrow. I’m looking after life’s little and big jobs now. I’m not waiting for spring. Another motto is live by – don’t wait for spring.

Hurray, I’ve written a post in the morning. Consistent practice makes for better. I’m warming up for the October Ultimate Blog Challenge.

The Things I Can’t Change

Posted on September 26, 2024 by hafong

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

I’m still mumbling and stumbling but unfortunately not towards ecstasy. My mind has been like scrambled eggs, unable to be calm. Therefore, I am often lost or at a lost. I thought I would take the day off, lounge, do nothing and rest. It seem like a hard thing to do now. I wake up, get up, dress up and show up and there’s things to do.

I like to step out of the door to get my natural dose of Vitamin D. Pretty soon I find a pail in my hand and a pair of clippers in my other hand. Then I clip a tomato here and there, pick those evergrowing purple pole beans. I wander into the front yard and clip those bush tomatoes in the raised bed. Next I’m pulling some red onions in the next bed. One thing leads to another. It always happen.

I’m not complaining. It’s good to be out in the morning light. It’s good to be moving. But it would be good, too, if I can be still and rest. I have lost the knack of just being. I’m in constant thought, thinking, worrying, fretting, moving. There are many things that I can’t change but somehow I still feel responsible. I still fret, mumble and stumble through my day, wondering what can I do.

So I came here, to put my frantic and nervous thoughts onto the page. Perhaps that will take wind out of them. A therapist once told me that I am not all that powerful. I am not God. I am not responsible for everything and everyone. So I am remembering that now and thinking about the many things I have no power over.

I cannot change my nature. I am a fretter and worrier. Perhaps accepting that part of myself will help me find healthier ways of behaviour. I cannot change how another sees and treats me. It is not my problem and it does not define me. I cannot stop time. I cannot change the weather. I can learn to prepare to work around for the things I cannot change. I guess I am not that powerless, after all. I do have power over how I think. And that is good enough.

Just Show up

Posted on September 23, 2024 by hafong

Whenever I have a poor night’s sleep for whatever reason, I feel mournful, as if someone had died. I mope around in slow motion, dragging my feet. I suppose my body is mourning its loss of rest. I’m not at all joyful, though not sad either. However I feel, I get up, dress up and show up. That has been my motto for many years. I adopted it from Regina Brett’s God Never Blinks, 50 Life Lessons for Life’s Little Detours. It’s lesson #46. It works for me.

I was wondering how I was going to navigate the day. The day took care of itself once I got up, dressed up, washed my face and brushed my teeth. I like to start my day with a cuppa of Orange Pekoe tea, play Wordle and Spelling Bee. Then there is breakfast, the dishes, followed by roasting golden beets and sweet peppers. The tomatoes were calling to be sauced. That generated more things to wash. But the beets and peppers were so delicious to add to yesterday’s leftover quesadilla from McNally Robinson. It made for a very yummy lunch.

Now the tomatoes are sauced. I wondered how the heck I was going to write this post. Then I remembered today’s email from CBC Literary Prizes. Today’s advice on how to get your writing done was to show up. So here I am. It works! If I want to succeed, I have to show up and tap. At least my fingers are happy today, dancing across the keyboard. Not too much stuttering or stumbling. I am tired but a happy camper. I shall call this a day.

On Why I Write

Posted on September 22, 2024 by hafong

I’ve written a few times on why I write. It’s a topic well worth writing again. I do tend to dwell on things. Though it is a source of pleasure, sometimes it is a struggle as I am presently finding. It is all very well to say that I am going to write every day. It is a hard task to carry out. Life always happen and interferes daily. But I am finally here today.

I was inspire to write on this topic by George Orwell’s essay on “Why I Write.” Like him, I think it is in my nature. I was also lonely as a child, spending much time reading. I had an idea when I was in grade 9, that I want to write a book. I still have that desire but books are not my nature. Rather, I just like to mutter and utter solliloquies. I like how words sound and how they are put together. It’s a pleasure for me. I don’t aspire to be a Shakespeare.

I have no egoism like Orwell but I do like to be clever in putting words together. I have no desire to be published or famous. I am tickled if I get a reader or two. I do like to share my experiences. Maybe that’s a form of egoism, thinking others would be interested. But mostly I write to please myself. It’s a way of easing physical and mental discomfort. The rhythmic tapping of the keys soothes and smooths me.

Sometimes I do like the struggle of putting thoughts into words and sentences. It helps to organize my brain. It’s a bit like opening a box I got from Amazon. I would look at the gadget I had ordered and wonder why the hell I did that. I want to close the box, feeling overwhelmed by the complexity of putting the gizmo together. I would calm down after awhile and start the arduous task of reading directions and putting it together. Now we have the Instant Air Fryer Vortex together to make supper with. We can can air fry, roast, broil, bake, reheat, dehydrate, and rotisserie. I hope it lives up to the rave review.

To tell the truth, it was the guy who read the instructions and assembled it. He is also going to cook supper. But I am a good dishwasher. Doing the dishes can also be like writing. On an iffy day, I get overwhelmed by the pile of dishes, pots and pans, not knowing where to start. After a mental struggle, I just start – anywhere.

Changing of the Season

Posted on September 19, 2024 by hafong

I hate starting anything except the beginning of the day. That, I look forward to especially now we are in the dark. I miss the brightness of the sun and the heat of the summer. I miss waking up to daylight at 5 am and a promise of a sunny day. I miss the physical labour in the yard and garden. I miss the fatigue at the end of the day when I can drop off to sleep when I hit the bed.

I remind myself that I am adjusting to the changing of the season, to the waning of sunbeams. I am responding by increasing my vitamin D dosage. I am still taking my daily morning tour in the yard/garden and greenhouse even if it is raining. Even on this grey and drizzling morning, there’s still a lot of light and colour to cheer me. I am not afraid of getting wet.

Now it is late afternoon. The sun came out. The muffins I intended to bake yesterday are baked today. All is well.

Rainy Day Blues

Posted on September 18, 2024 by hafong

I took the weekend off from my daily writes and look at what happened. Two days turned into 4 days. Now I’m having a time getting back into words. Forget about intentions. They don’t seem to work. So many of my intentions are laying by the wayside. My intentions of making muffins today never came to be. That should teach me not to waste time on talking about and setting intentions. Let me move on.

Moving on is easier said than done. I am weighed down by the gloom of the day. I want to sit, close my eyes and drift on nothingness. You can’t really blame me. It’s hard to be positive and energized without the sun. Our present day world doesn’t make it easy either. What kind of world are we in where a man drugs his wife and recruits men to rape her for 10 years? What horrible thing will be in the news tonight?

My weakness is that I am so permeable to all the vibes around me. It’s not good but what can I do if it is my makeup? So what I do is I come here and mumble and lament, voicing my grievances and discomfort. It’s good to have an outlet. It’s much better than letting them swirl within me.

Gratitude

Posted on September 13, 2024 by hafong

Photo by Dagmara Dombrovska on Pexels.com

We live in such a catastrophic world today where a 14 year old can shoot up a school in Georgia and another 14 year old can set a fellow student on fire. In light of that my own difficulties are just minor skirmishes. In thinking and writing about catastrophes these last few days, I’ve realized that I’ve been blessed.

I have no real catastrophes and nothing to complain about. I’m in good health, have a roof over my head, food in my pantry, clothes on my back and in the closet and a comfortable bank account. I have a multitude of interests and hobbies. I’m still keen on learning. I’m looking forward to the start of my online class on Curing the World’s Diseases next week. At the moment I am enjoying the Healing Kitchen series from Sacred Science. So many things to learn about food and healing.

It has been a dreary drizzling day but the sun just came out and lit my world. I hope it stays longer than a few minutes. But it is enough to lift the gloom from my mood. On with the rest of my afternoon.

Full Catastrophe Living

Posted on September 12, 2024 by hafong

I’m scratching my head to remember another catastrophe to write about. Life has been fairly calm the last few years. I’m hard pressed to come up with another episode. The distance of old memory takes the bite out the catastrophes of younger years. For instance, the fact that my father tossed my 2 year old butt out on the doorstep in a fit of bad mood does not bring tears to my eyes. I do not have any recollection of it except the ‘aunties’ often loved to tell that story. They also loved telling me that I inherited his temper. Because of that and my scarred arm, I would have trouble finding a husband.

The husband part is true but I’m not sure about the reasons. Those repeated stories could have traumatized me. Who knows, eh? Maybe I have been damaged. But I’m not going that route. I don’t like the blame game. I have felt the blame for everything and everybody for many years. I don’t wish that on anyone. I’ve felt responsibility for everything that’s gone wrong. Really, I’ve realized that I’m not that powerful. Slowly I’ve let that go. Life is full of good, bad, joy, sorrow, successes, tragedies and catastrophes. It’s not all on me. That’s how a full life is. I’ve learned to embrace it all.

I Quit!

Posted on September 11, 2024 by hafong

I haven’t thought of myself as being a quitter till these last few days. For this 2nd week of September I’m writing on catastrophes. I’m thinking back over the years to my most troublesome times. Now I remember I am a bit of a quitter. I quit university after 2 years. I did not finish. I did not get a degree in fine arts or English, my two majors. I can’t remembered exactly how I felt. Knowing my nature I was probably despressed, feeling like a failure. I was not talented nor a bright prospect as my high school teachers lauded me.

After slinging coffee at a cafe for a few months, I took a 10-month secretarial course at the Saskatoon Business College. I completed that and had plans to move to Vancouver to find a job. Somehow, I never got there and ended up settling for that job at a broiler making company from which I got fired within a few months. I wasn’t a quitter there. I was fired.

After working 2 years at the Dept. of Indian and Northern Affairs, I got bored. I went back to school, taking a 2 year diploma nursing course. The first year was not a problem. Nor was the second until the final few months. I’ve never had any hospital experience, no candy striper experience or even hospital visiting experience. So I had problems clinically in my last two rotations. Besides that, I had both personal and financial problems. So one evening when my instructor muttered ‘You’re flunking’, I lost it. I yelled, I quit!

I didn’t. My instructor intervened. I got help and graduated. After working a few years at a hospital, I said the same thing. I quit! It wasn’t the hard work. It was the environment. I did not find hospitals a friendly supportive workplace. I wanted to leave nursing behind me but I lasted only a few weeks. One day, driving past the university hospital, I stopped in on a whim to fill an application form. When I came out, I had a job. Instead of being happy, I put my head on the steering wheel and cried.

Nursing must have been my calling. I stayed for over 30 years. They were memorable though I can’t say it was good or bad. Whatever they were, I can say I felt good about the work I did. But today I can still feel the stress and trauma in my body as I am tapping out the words. My body shivers with the memory. But I have survived. I would not do it again if I could relive my life. Or I wouldn’t have stayed so long.

I should have quit sooner. That’s what I know now. It’s okay to quit if something is too hard or not working out. You can always pick it up again later. Or something else better might come along. Hind sight is better than no sight.

Scarred for Life

Posted on September 10, 2024 by hafong

It’s working time again, time that I sit in discipline and write. It used to be so much easier when I came to the keyboard regularly. I had a need and something to say. Now I have a want. I always have something to say. But I struggle with the discipline. I struggle with the flow. I have to work at it till it all comes back. I’m relying on Susan Wittig Albert’s writing prompts.

It’s good to have prompts to think about. This 2nd week of September, the prompt is catastrophes. We’re often advised not to dwell on the negatives and the past. Look forward, don’t look back. Sometimes I find that impossible to do. I’m easily triggered and my mind travels backwards and into dark tunnels. The topic had me time traveling back to my earliest catastrophe. It took me back to my 2 year old self when I was still in China.

Being so long ago, it is only a memory of the memory. I was playing in the courtyard chasing the chickens with my uncle who was only a year older than me. We were called in to have a dessert made with arrowroot flour. It was a hot sweet syrup. My uncle and I were fighting over the biggest bowl when I upsetted the bowl over my left arm. Being winter, I had a heavy long sleeved shirt on which was difficult to remove. I ended up with 3rd degree burn halfway down my arm starting from my elbow.

I have no memory at all of the spillage or the pain at the time or after. My burn would not heal with home treatment. So my mother took me to see a doctor in a bigger town. I do have memories of trips to the hospital by a bicycle taxi. I remember going through the gate and under an arch. I remembered that we had the bad luck of getting the same unskilled driver every time. But I have no memory of pain. My mother said I was a good baby. I did not fuss or cry much.

My burn did healed but I ended up with a big scar. I was very fortunate I did not lose any function of my arm. It did cause me some self image issues when I was young. I had often gazed at my arm, wondering what it would be like to have 2 normal looking arms. How would I feel? Would I be happier? How would my life be without a scar? Now in my ripe old age, it matters not a squat. I think we are all scarred having lived.

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity

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