Little Things/Big Things

Bits and pieces take on a life of their own as they age. Everything seems to take forever. Main focus seems to be meals, how to make them or how to pick them up somewhere else or have them delivered. I've suggested a workshop on cooking for singles here in a series of workshops my committee is putting on - well received I should add. Mindfulness, hearing, etc.

Other than that I fill a wee gratitude list every day, the fact I can still drive to wherever I choose - even though choices are limited. Gone are the days I'd drive across the island to the ferry, hop on board with my trusty dog and spend overnight on it and then drive off at the other end in mainland Canada.

I remember writing an article for a now defunct magazine years ago of never being aware when we do something for the last time, though sometimes we are. I remember dropping off my daughter at school, she was around 9, and thinking, that's the last time she'll kiss me in front of her friends outside the school. And sure enough, it was. I never thought my last marathon would be my last, or my last long ferry would be my last. Or the last time I hugged my granny or my mum or my brother.

I believe if we were more aware of this each time something precious and dear happens it would be far more meaningful.

Just the ramblings of an old geezer facing her own mortality square in the face.

My love of books continues:

Two really good reads:

Everything, everywhere, but not all at once.

 Checking in with you, my dear blogmates.

I'm dealing with a lot of exhaustion, though my last two specialist check-ins were good for my age and overall condition, i.e. just north of falling apart completely.

My days are unpredictable and sometimes the little battles that used to be a breeze overwhelm me.

(1) A breakdown between the provincial overseer of senior drug benefits and my clinical pharmacist and my regular pharmacist and me in the middle flailing around without my suddenly uncovered pain drug. Unconscionable, but sorted. Finally. Bout seriously? I didn't need the stress.

(2) My car hit a pothole and is doing that weird noise thing under the passenger side. I finally booked an appointment with the mechanic and will deal with the logistics of leaving her there all day and finding my own staggery way home. 

(3) The stress of the election I felt in my very bones. Squeaker. Truly. Carney meets with Cheeto today. Fingers crossed. Haven't watched it yet.

(4) Trying to plan an itinerary for my siblings who are ALL coming to visit me this month. Realizing my wee Toyoto won't fit them all and I'm too old to rent a larger vehicle. You read that right. Over eighties are deemed ga-ga and unable to navigate traffic. I have an accident free licence for 65 years (another you read that right). Millions of kilometres driven. Cheapest auto insurance on the planet.

Such things plunge me into a kind of paralysis. An unusual feeling for me. 

I say to myself: what am I missing that is making me feel so helpless. Looking for my mother to take care of me? To manage it all like an adult.? Decided I need to work with the Spotify sub my daughter gave me and load on all my stuff from the Ipod that has been my good friend for years and years. So I started and am delighted at how Spotify is set up. It has all my weird stuff on board. Delightful. It's like listening to my playlists it all over again for the first time as I listen to Ella and Beethoven and the Irish Kings and Oscar Peterson (eclectic I am). And oh yes a new artist I saw on PBS Sierra Hull, if you're a fan of mandolin - she's first class bluegrass.

So some pics from today when I went up to my deserted ocean and enjoyed the birds and the ever-rolling sea which always grounds me.

I'll catch up with you all now.