I hosted my last PGs* last night. Three from BC plus two very well behaved dogs. their paws on the wood floors of my house and on my stairs had me unexpectedly and apologetically leak a few sniffles in spite of myself. I remembered with a kind of savage pain, the Wonder Dog. So I talked of her for a little while.
The three, a mother, her daughter and son-in-law were ascetic types. I would always fall in love with ascetics. You know the ones who have a spoonful of oatmeal, a radish and half an apple and call it a meal. Thin, tall lean hikers who say jolly good and gung-ho to anything that involves burning off 5,00o calories in an afternoon. Me? I count my life in meals eaten, where, when, and rate and oomph the OMG slobber factor for each and every one. Opposites attracting and all that.
They frowned on my breakfast offerings, the full Monte Newfoundland breakfast which would cement your stomach in place for two days, and had dabs of porridge, yogurt and teeny tiny spoonies of my selection of jams. That was it. No toast, or ham or eggs or scones and just the one cup of coffee they allowed themselves a day, and they were on their skinny greyhoundy way. I wish we all could be mixes of this type, the lusty gustoes and the leany beanies.
More potential buyers have turned around at the site of the Cathedral. It is getting wearisome, I admit.
Grandgirl recommended a really lovely book which her mother has subsequently read and passed on to me. I'm thoroughly enjoying it. I will review it when finished. It takes me out of myself.
I know I have to move but the inertia has gripped me with icy cold fingers and I'm stagnant and paralyzed and don't know how to begin. I curled up around a cheery fire today and did absolutely zero apart from nap and read. A friend had provided me with a large pot of stew so there was nothing to do apart from simply set a date and helpers but it all seemed far more than I could possibly manage.
I took the pretty picture above this morning, in my bathroom, of the last of the community garden flowers that have kept the rooms in my house blooming over the summer. The picture below is of my first knitted flowers which I created on another story shawl for a dear friend.
*Paying Guests
I'm rather going the opposite direction, my dear friend. I'm going to let the kids decide what to do with stuff and the place. Arranged it as such. My last revenge, so to speak. Actually, I think it'll go fine.
ReplyDeleteCheers to you, and all my best.
Mike
Circumstances don't allow me to do that Mike, but oh boy does it sound appealing right now!
DeleteBut I know I'll be ecstatic once ensconced in the new HQ. It's merely the challenge of getting there.
Best back to you my friend.
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You need a hug, and oh boy do I wish it could be in person!
ReplyDeleteI think we'd hug each other for a good hour. You've not escaped your own distressing events E.
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We lost our home to a landslide in January -- total loss, have applied for FEMA money. But even a neighbor 3 doors up, trying to sell their house, kept coming down in price and just took it off the market. I'm assuming the slide is scaring buyers off; must be so frustrating for the would-be sellers! I hope you were able to enjoy having the PG dogs around, in spite of pangs of sadness. And, I like your real flowers but especially your yarn ones -- what a knitter you are! I only crochet, but I love the calming process.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry Carolyn, how awful for you. You are in far worse shape than I am. Losing everything, I can't imagine. And then I think of Puerto Rico et al and think I have nothing to complain about.
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I can appreciate you could feel so overwhelmed with all that's happening in your life that you might feel a bit numb or frozen with a need to withdraw a bit for self-preservation. I've had a taste of that for different reasons than yours. Not always sure just where to start -- perhaps a wee bit at a time. Can no longer jump in for the long haul into the early morning hours as I once did when the inspiration caused the the juices to flow. Thinking of you and hoping all goes as well as possible to your liking.
ReplyDeleteMy recent physical challenges and subsequent frustration don't help I know but hanging my hat on the handicap is unhelpful and more paralysing truly. A shovel a day moves the mountain as my granny would say.
DeleteI wish she was here now to take charge though.
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Your line about inertia gripping you is spot-on. I know the feeling. I am in the midst of a divorce (my own choosing) and have a million things to do, including my freelance work. But for some bizarre reason I cannot get myself going at full speed to do all the things I need to...I have no idea why. Plus, all this talk here of the latest nightmarish "health care" bill from Republicans makes me ill. May we have better days ahead!
ReplyDeleteI see they've abandoned the health care bill. Good.
DeleteI believe major life changes need breathing space around them. Unfortunately, our culture tends to push us and fault us for not "moving on" quickly. Grieving is needed even when death isn't involved.
Who am I now is the question I'm pondering.
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Wouldn't if be luverly if we all could be that mix you speak of: both lean & lusty, appetite-wise! In our next lives, on a different planet perhaps. :-)
ReplyDeleteI can relate to your feelings of inertia - even though I'm not facing the kind of life-shift you are right now. I'm blaming the lowering of BP following a necessary change of meds a few months ago. Lethargy rules, unless I can manage to mentally kick myself up the proverbial - even when a potential wee road trip is in the offing, my enthusiasm lags.
I'm such a homebody now T. Maybe that will shift with more opps in the city. I hope so. I'm used to the two story multi-room space here and the shifting mood of the ocean by my front door. I do love this spot and need to stroke it some more and remember the happy times here.
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THe new knitting project reminds me of the work of another knitter: she knit wool plain, then felted it and embroidered it, with various designs flowers etc, and made gorgeous handbags that just flew off her etsy, orders backlogged into next year. I can't find her account anymore. Anyway, the bags were pricey but that didn't seem to deter the buyers.
ReplyDeleteYes, I've been approached to make these story shawls for others, its about 100 hours of work including layout and design. What should I charge? You tell me :)
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For the bags she charged around $200+. I gather her customers were Toronto. She used the beautiful yarn from that New Brunswick mill, name escapes me enow.
DeleteAs for the story shawls, well that's a personal offering, isn't it? How could you do it if you didn't know the person? Priceless.
Briggs is the mill in NB. Potential trial clients were going to tell me the story of granny/old loved one. I don't have to know the person. Pricing is my stumbling block. Even at $4.00/hour. $400 for a handcrafted heirloom? I dunno.
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I'm constantly amazed at how little some people eat. Like your guests, they seem to exist on tiny portions of everything, or nothing at all from breakfast until the evening meal. And there am I eating about three times as much. Just very different metabolisms, I guess.
ReplyDeleteI will never understand them. Does this asceticism spill over into art/reading/theatre appreciation? I believe so from my own field research. They are so practical goddammit.
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I can already sense your feeling a running down coming.
ReplyDeleteConvince me.
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Bless you and a dozen hugs sent your way I also need at the moment. Much going on here and told my daughter this morning I do not think I can stay here. She replied get more help, I do not want a baby sitter
ReplyDeleteand hoping this severe attack of infection and difficulty walking leaves. Told I am not handicapped just limited - yeah mighty limited. I want nothing just safety and wish family that are nowhere near. But know they love me, just no time for me...
I'm sick of feeling this way too. I hobble along on my stick, I can see why people give up. Limited, yeah me too. I don't think we can lean on others. I'd hate to lean on Daughter, she is wonderful enough as she is. I imagine if I had a real family it would help. But I don't so have to soldier on alone.
DeleteDowner today, sorry.
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I have a tiny eater friend like that. More than once I have found her hiding out somewhere eating big pieces of chocolate cake and other treats.
ReplyDeleteI remember a client, a bird, who would get up in the middle of conference and hide behind her fridge door chowing down on ice cream. I could ee her in the mirror in her office and hear her "coughing" in the bathroom afterwards. Ironically, she died of bowel cancer.
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