Today I have to renew my driver license. Ah, the humanity. Of course I got gasoline on my hand while filling up. I’ll have to wash my hands again! Ugh.
Nice floor. I guess.
Interesting thing. The Spanish speaking line moves fastest. Bilingual friends, remember this.
There is a faster and newer place to go, but no, I always go to the one near work. I am glad I have my Wordscapes game to entertain me. I’ll be here a while.
PS
It only took an hour. I still don’t need glasses to drive! However, I am definitely older and more rounded in the new photo. Least of my worries though.
I’ve seen bluebonnets on the side of MoPac this week. I heard they are way early. But flowers are supposed to make me happier, not worry about global warming.
Old-fashioned single camellia in Clute
So. Hooray for the camellia blossoms I saw last weekend that reminded me of home and my mom. She hybridized them. She had so many issues, messed up so much, but she was my mom and loved me.
Not quite open yet.
The Hoya plant reminds me of the year I contract worked at 3M. Nobody really talked to me in my department, but I got to have lunch with my friends Bill and Scott sometimes. And that plant bloomed and bloomed. It’s still going.
There’s stuff going on in my family, stuff going on with friends, stuff and more stuff. Ah, but even grocery store flowers remind me that we retreat and rebloom in cycles. Good times will come and the flowers will bloom again.
Hug a friend. I’ll try to write something more profound or fascinating next time.
The past few days, I’ve been fixated on what all of us human beings have in common. I guess a lot of this has been because I’ve been reading Barbara Kingsolver’s book on the Congo, The Poisonwood Bible, for the neighborhood book club. I’ve also been learning about life in the 1930s for members of the Navajo Nation in New Mexico in the book, Spider Woman, by Gladys A. Reichard (it’s a memoir that just got reprinted). On top of that, the PBS television show Finding Your Roots has focused on family life of slaves in the US, families dealing with wars in Asia, and other times of difficulty and stress for people. I have learned a lot from the photos and documents they show.
Here are two minor helpers for keeping me well: yet another reblooming orchid, and my sign remniding me to breathe.
I keep seeing families and communities that manage to do well, in spite of the many challenges life throws at them, and also how they sometimes break down. I kept wondering, what do all of us need to have a “good” life?
For my real estate blog, I wrote up some of my thoughts as they relate to what we do to create homes for people, not just houses. I came up with what, to me, are the minimum requirements for a good life.
These are my stab at a list of basic needs. It may not cover everything.
Just having food and a roof over your head is not enough, to me. You need a community around you, so that you can give and receive love and friendship. You need to feel like you have a purpose in life, which is what I mean by fulfilling work. I don’t even know that pay is important, if you can meet your needs otherwise, but life is pretty hollow without the ability to do something that makes you feel like a part of the big picture.
And freedom from fear is the clencher for me. So many people live where they feel unsafe. You can’t be happy if you are worried about war, physical/mental cruelty, prejudices, or environnmental dangers. Every human deserves to feel safe.
We have our loving community, a home, food, and the meaningful work of being companions for our mommies. So, we are happy, say Pickle and Vlassic.
I’ve seen (and read about in my books) many people who don’t have much by way of possessions, money, or property, but they are happy because they life surrouded by a safe communty, have enough to eat, and are contributing to the greater good. That’s all I really want, too.
What other things would you add to a list of basic needs for a happy life? I’d be interested. Certainly there are a LOT more things that would add to happiness, like health care, education…and?
A number of years ago, I quit writing in my blogs (I had one on knitting and one on traveling in our RV). I basically quit reading them, too. I found, at the time, that all my blogging friends had moved to Facebook and were posting updates there, or in Instagram.
I used Blogger for my first blog. It is apparently still there, with a happy message from 2011 and some depressing things about my dad dying.
Why did I blog before?
Throughout my life I’ve enjoyed keeping journals. Writing my thoughts down helps me process. When I found blogs in 2005, I was thrilled to be able to journal without writing by hand, and at first kept a private blog (which I think my spouse still does, but who knows; it’s private!).
Then, I discovered many cool people on email lists (another love of my past) blogging about knitting, sharing their work, sharing their patterns, and interacting with each other. It was so great to share photos and instructions, as well as what was going on in our lives.
I was a bad dog. Now my foot hurts. Pays me back for hurting Brody last week.
On a rainy day in which I suffered from dizziness and headaches and general ickiness, I was glad to have my canine buddies to warm and cheer me.
We’re totally innocent of course. But Brody has his thupper out to thup unsuspecting passers by.
(Although Harvey tried to eat Big Alfred’s breakfast and now has an owie.)
Action shot.
To occupy themselves during the rain, Alfred and Carlton played at least a half hour. It looks fierce but was actually very gentle. They kept sticking their heads in each other’s mouths and gnawing at legs.
We short-haired dogs have to keep each other warm.
Much of the day both Carlton and Vlassic sat in my lap. Carlton is incredibly gentle when he jumps up. I often don’t even notice. The other dogs are like flying mallets.
Sun, water, and stuff to sniff! Heaven.
I did go outside to take some plant photos, accompanied by the guys. Then sun had broken through the clouds and everything was clean and shiny. The arroyo was flowing, which makes for happy dogs and even made me feel a bit better.
I’ve been musing about how I feel fearless lately and thinking about the things that helped me get that way. Most of them are just normal things, but done intentionally (like walking). Another thing that’s made a huge difference for me is doing yoga regularly.
As I was trying to do downward dog in my boots on the dirty floor, Vlassic came over to demonstrate puppy pose.
Now, I’m not one of those super-flexible yoginis that they show in ads. In fact, when I was taking my one ill-fated year of ballet lessons, I overheard the woman tell my mother that I was the least limber child she’d ever seen. That did not inspire me to dance greatness. Plus, when I tried gymnastics, I never could complete a backward roll. Still haven’t, for that matter.
BUT, there are two things about yoga that have built my confidence in my body and buoyed my soul.
It’s not a competition
When you do yoga with real people with their varied abilities and issues, it quickly becomes apparent that comparing yourself with others in your class or the teacher is a waste of time. The mental part is as important as the physical part, and by gosh everyone can practice making their mind still and concentrating on their breath. Who cares if their hands don’t touch the floor when they bend over?
Many years ago, my friend Sensei Larry took a look at how many committees at the church we were members of, and he said, “Wow, you’re really a joiner, aren’t you?” I was quite indignant. I am NOT a joiner. I’m a hermit, dang it! I hate joining things. Ugh! Groups! People! Conflict!
I am NOT a joiner! GRRRR.
I started laughing to myself today when out of the blue, I volunteered to run for the Board of the homeowner association where we live in Austin. The Board pretty much tells the 30+ homes in our little development what they can and cannot do. They meet monthly. They have committees. They are mostly “good old boys” (not exclusively). Why on earth…
…I’ll tell you why. I care. Wow, make me stop caring.
But wait, there’s more
As I type this, I’m in a Board meeting of another organization. Why? Because I care about my connections and friends. And they asked. So, other people: don’t ask me to join anything!
We changed the name of the LLL Alumnae Association to make it more clear that ALL are welcome. That means everyone who cares about our connections.
I’m happy to say I’m the new editor of Continuum, the publication for Friends of La Leche League, a group of people who have been or are currently members or associates of local La Leche League breastfeeding support groups. It’s going online and they asked. And wow, I love working with smart and interesting women.
Help me!
So, yeah, I’m a joiner. But I’m also an organizer and a person who loves collaborative work. So hey, former LLL friends of mine! Consider helping out with this project! Nothing would be a lot of work! We could get the old gang together and create a useful and entertaining online publication relevant to all of us, whatever parenting stage we’re at. Contact me on the Facebook, please.
Now I think I’m full. No more joining for a while, which I’m sure will make good ole Sensei Larry happy. Remember: I’m FULL. No more volunteering.
I’m still pondering how I got to be so fearless all of a sudden. Did I suddenly become a wise crone when I turned 60? I doubt it. A lot of things I do contributed to it. Now, I know everyone attains their wisdom and maturity differently, but I also know that I learn a lot when I read about other people’s journeys (probably why I like blogs so much, now that Facebook no longer has as many interesting personal updates). Memes schmemes.
So, I’ll be sharing what’s worked for me over the next few days or weeks, and you are welcome to take what works for you and leave the rest, as we used to tell mothers at La Leche League meetings.
Let’s take a walk
I can remember thinking I was a slothlike slug, because I never was very good at vigorous exercise. I sure was over-generalizing! Looking back, I see that I was, and still am, a big walker. I walked miles and miles while I was getting my university degrees. I have strong memories of exactly how far it was from the Foreign Language Building to the Engineering building on the University of Illinois campus, especially when it was below zero outside.
Then I had kids. Walk walk walk (also a lot of bike rides). Walking on trails. Walking at football stadiums. Walking.
I can see this path from my window at work. I usually walk around the whole complex, which takes a half hour, or walk this over and over (many lovely birds here). When it is raining, I can always walk all the way up the parking garage and back!
Then I started working in office buildings. The only way I can survive is to take a walk most days. That’s where I do my best thinking and pound away my concerns.
Get ready for some heavy introspection! In the past couple of years, a big change has come over me. I’ve been spending some time reflecting on how the way I interact with people and the world in general has changed for the better. I’ve been wondering what the heck sparked the welcome change, and whether I could even describe it other than “I feel better now.”
Is this flower perfect? No. But it’s beautiful and capable of bearing fruit (because I see a rose hip).
I come from a “nervous” family, and always have dealt with anxiety, which coupled with being an “extra sensitive person” could be a real hindrance to someone like me, whose goal is a relatively calm life with relatively little stress.
After decades of trying to deal with my lovely symptoms through meditation and self care, I finally got some therapy, which was very helpful and healed up some of those deeply rooted issues from childhood.
This blue wall used to have a very busy mural on it. The blue wall and fake clouds remind me of how nice it is to have some of that background buzz diminished.
When I finally tried some medication, I noticed that the background buzz of anxiety went down just enough that I could really work on some of the other things that were holding me back, most of which were fears created by myself:
Fear of making mistakes
Fear of trying new, hard things
Fear of displeasing a loved one
Fear of rejection (the big one)
That’s a lot of fear. Those are pretty common, I know, but they sure were intrfering with that peaceful mental state I was aiming for. So, I worked on it.
I’m still trying to make amends for upsetting folks who are into KonMari. I threw away a box today. Just kidding.
I love the pendulum owl’s eyes. And yes, I labeled all the light switches. Too many in the Hermits’ Rest house!
Really, I wanted to say how much more joy my ranch office is giving me today, because I have been reunited with my old friend, the Owl Clock. It’s not really a very old friend, but it brings back such happy memories to me of the most fun vacation my husband and I ever took together, back in 2014.
Our friends, Ann and John, were celebrating their anniversary. We’re still in touch on Facebook.
We did one of those Viking river cruises on the Rhine River that you see so many ads about. Well, it turned out to be absolutely fantastic. We loved the pace of it, we met friends from England who were perfect (Lee and the husband sat and enjoyed the scenery in the cities where we stopped, while the wife and I had a blast shopping and exploring). And there weren’t too many people for Lee, and we had a small suite he could escape to. It worked.
Some clocks in the shop were from China, but most had hand-carved fronts. There were people carving and putting together clocks, which was fun to watch.
Our favorite place was the Black Forest (it turns out we both have ancestors from that area). We loved the traditional farms, the crops, the trees. Ah. And we even loved the Tourist Stop that apparently every tour makes, to a little center where you could buy glassware, steins, and of course, cuckoo clocks. The minute I saw this owl clock (which was next to a rather kitschy Harley Davidson clock with moving motorcycles), I knew I had to have it. The hand-carved owls and pine trees were very different from most of the other clocks, and the little own that comes out and says “Who-who” (nope not cuckoo) charmed me to no end. I love owls, even if they do eat the chickens.
I also got a glass bird made by this artisan. It’s at the Bobcat house in a window.
The clock got shipped to our house and held a place of honor until we sold that house to move somewhere smaller. We got it to the ranch, but it took a while to get it re-installed. Thanks, Lee! And we even found the weight that keeps the time right, which of course the dogs managed to find and take outside.
What else? A tapestry and a chair
I just wanted to point out two more items that sparked my joy today (oh wow, I am using that term). I had to re-hang my Navajo-style weaving, because the Owl Clock took its place. When I touched it, I had great memories of the weaving class I took in Colorado with my friend Chriztine, and of the amazing teacher we had, Lynda Teller Pete. By the way, she and her sister have just published a new book, Spider Woman’s Children. I highly recommend it if you are a weaving fan.
Not the best weaving ever, but it sure was fun to learn to do it!
I realized where I was sitting when I was looking at the clock and little tapestry. I was in the same chair I sat in with my dad, ever since I was a tiny child. I remember this chair my whole life. One of my earliest memories is of watching Lassie, squeezed in next to Dad in the big green chair, and crying because I thought something bad was going to happen to Lassie or Timmie. Dad explained that Lassie always came back.
“My” chair, with pillow we are saving from Carlton the Dogman, who loves to eat pillows. The “interesting” footstool was made by my dad, so even though it’s not well balanced, it’s earned a place in my home. What’s that behind the chair? Why a ton of china with flowers on it, duh! Much of it was my mother’s, as was the curio cabinet.
Later on, with different upholstery, this was “my” chair in our family room. It always had a pile of books, some knitting or embroidery, and a beverage next to it on a very ugly table (now it would be a chic mid-century modern table, but I hated it).
Still later, after Mom passed away, Dad had the chair recovered in some bargello-like blue and green fabric, and I ended up with it at my house. The upholstery matched NOTHING in my house, but there was no way I’d change it, because my great Uncle Doc had done the work (this uncle raised his 7 siblings and took care of his mother, Granny Kendall, after my grandfather lost his life in a tragic bar fight accident, where he was just trying to help…which explains Dad’s feelings about guns).
When we moved out of the Braesgate house, I finally had it re-done in this perky yellow print. That chair has been busy!
What in your surroundings sparks joy in you today?
I’ve seen bluebonnets on the side of MoPac this week. I heard they are way early. But flowers are supposed to make me happier, not worry about global warming.
There’s stuff going on in my family, stuff going on with friends, stuff and more stuff. Ah, but even grocery store flowers remind me that we retreat and rebloom in cycles. Good times will come and the flowers will bloom again.
The Hermits' Rest 