Gratitude

I titled this post appropriately. Because honestly? Even through the worst of times we can seek out the little things that make life a journey of gratitude if we seek out the slivers like slashes of sunshine seeping into a cloudy day. Always look for them. They are there. 

I remember hosting a dear friend who was older than me, who stayed with me at my lovely home around the bay. She brought her daughter with her. Her only child who was approximately fifty to her seventy-five. What blew me away was the tenderness exhibited by her daughter towards her mother. Daughter treated her like a precious jewel without being nauseatingly solicitous or patronizing in any way. I thought to myself - oh to have such a relationship with my own daughter.

Moving on approximately fifteen years. And here I am facing many health challenges and my daughter has quietly stepped up to the plate and she is exactly the same as Shirley, the daughter of my dear friend, Laura, who passed away a few years ago in her eighties. Daughter is with me through all the tests, the lab work, the X-rays, the consults. Asking questions, reporting symptoms I have forgotten or thought inconsequential. Officially, there is no real prognosis apart from an enlarged heart and some shadowy bits on lungs, which could be congestion, but no one, has as yet,identified, as my internist is unexpectedly away and moved my appointment to May 22nd.

Meanwhile, true friends have stepped up to the plate and check-in and remind me to reach out for help any time of day or night. Support by digital means from afar is never, ever taken for granted, either. 

All in all, it remains up to me to reach out to others (always a challenge for me - eldest of 6 and the one in charge, so asking for help is an alien concept.

After a day fraught with challenges, Daughter drove us up in the wind and sun to Signal Hill and this sky just captivated me. 

Gorgeous, isn't it?

You can also see the whitecaps which were far and wide on the windy sea and I couldn't capture a wandering iceberg on the far left of this photo.

What are your slivers?

Time Opening Wide

Our absolutely amazing new greenhouse.

I'm working on finalizing another anthology. It's taking an inordinate amount of time. But good work, just like good trouble, is very gratifying. 

I was fortunate on Sunday with a nearly 5 hour brunch with my daughter. My family are incredible talkers and I am so glad that she and grandgirl have inherited this trait. For example when my siblings were all here we often sat over dinner for 6 or 7 hours with occasional stretches and never ran out of conversation. We cover everything, history, politics, religion, health and circle back again. Our sibling Zooms every Sunday for the last 6 years have us tearing ourselves off after several hours.

I know it's unusual as when I mention this to others their mouths fall open. They're of the gulp and gallop school when it comes to meals. I've often been left baffled in others' homes when everybody gets up after quickly ingesting. 

The wee fledgings wake me up now at 3.30 a.m. There are many nests in the trees outside.

Then the dawn, sometimes drowning in colour even in the west out my window. Or a decent fog which shutters any other noises. I love fog. Always have.

The long summer days are so very good here in the northern hemisphere.

There's a list of us waiting for our spots in the greenhouse (above). 

I am so very grateful to be living in this gorgeous spot.

The Ordinary

 I embrace it in times of stress and worry.

Just carrying on doing the do things if my body happens to co-operate that day. And my mind is not seething with "why bothers"

I'll hit 81 next week. (I know I'm as shocked as you.)

I find I am diminishing as I age, much of the time I feel irrelevant. Though I'm trying not to geezer my way through these last few years.

Life is not like before where I couldn't keep up with social demands and entertaining in my own home (I really, really miss that). The phone rings with other old geezers like myself, sometimes lonely, sometimes helpful. I find we help each other out more, picking up or dropping off or just now when fireworks ripped the night sky apart, texting to complain about the helpless animals affected. We've lived that with beloved pets

I don't start sentences with "In my time"

I try not to say "I've seen it all before" - though that's a tough one.

But I have, seen it all before I mean. War threats (try the sixties) revolutionary music, skirts that barely covered the arse (now they buy them ripped but I hold my tongue)and tall boots that were like scaffolding(they never quite went away, did they?)

Like some, I don't complain about modern technology (I embrace every twist and turn - hello TikTok!) or young people - most inspire me and teach me.

I am grateful for all I still can do (on my good days, mark you!) 

One close friend, a year younger than me, has just lost her driver's license. Mine was renewed for 5 years recently and I am beyond happy about that. I still love driving and miss the days when I'd belt across Canada with my dog in tow. My insurance rates are laughably low. I won't jinx it by telling you why though you can probably guess. 64 years of driving under my belt now. I learned on the rough old boreens of Ireland.

I'm rambling on - now I see I am an old geezer.

Here's a few pics.

Dinner last night. A freshly caught salmon from a friend.

A lovely lunch overlooking the ferries and boats a few days ago.

Flowers from a friend today which lifted me up from loneliness for my family of origin. 

Much to be grateful for. And I am.

Joy and Inspiration.

What does it for you, what brings you either or both of these gifts? It's the small stuff for me. Never the large.

I watch my African violets carefully for signs of buds. I get an unbelievable amount of joy from these tiny pleasures.

I don't think of the vast gardens of my past, I concentrate on the now of my life. What is one thing I can do today that will bring me joy?

Often I look through old knitting designs I created and work out something new, something to give away, something someone would like.

Othertimes, my energy is depleted. I never take a good energy day for granted as it fluctuates, as does the pain. Poor energy and I roll with it.

I take joy from a good coffee bean like this one, which is locally roasted and just how I like it.

I read, I learn. I write. I ponder the news, which isn't that great lately is it? I honestly feel that the planet, or Gaia, is on its last legs, howling in pain as us humans destroy it.

I stare at the dichotomy of all those unfortunate emigrants, leaving desperation, at the mercy of traffickers, drowning off an overloaded wreck of a boat, 750 crammed on board, women and children abandoned to the harsh sea and dying and those millionaires in their submersible getting all the news coverage. Was it ever thus?

I look to what inspires me. The diligent crows outside my window feeding their young. Sensing when I arrive with little tidbits for them. Just about tame as they land not too far from my feet. They know me.

I look at the bravery of some in my building, who are challenged in many ways but still get out of bed and get their exercise every day in the gyms we are blessed with or walk the halls like I do. I appreciate this building I live in for many reasons, not least of it in that I can see the ocean and the nearby lake and so many trees outside. And it's so quiet it's easy to climb into my thoughts and jot them down as I roll through my day.

Staying where my hands are, knowing how safe we are here on this island off the edge of Canada surrounded by breathtaking seascapes which inspire me every single day.

Gratitude

 I listened as a friend told me how she recently learned how to quell anxiety (and we all have it, the plague's not over, many are sick, new variants, wars, climate change - I'm so very sick of even trying to list).

So it goes like this: she has an old rosary beads of her granny's that she treasures. Hanging up somewhere as we do with things that are precious but have no use for.

She took down the rosary bead and off it went to bed with her. And she thought of her granny and fingered one bead in thanks and then she thought of other wonderful beings in her life and she assigned one bead to each of them and on it went. And she slept better than she had in years and woke refreshed with the beads still in her hands and resolved to do this every night when lying down.

I threw out all the old beads, sinful me, but I need to find me some and do much the same thing. I have so very much to be grateful for including those wonderful beings who have no idea they help me so much as I navigate each day and I daresay I might even run out of beads.

I met my new internist yesterday, very impressed, and and afterwards went up glorious Signal Hill here in St. John's and took a few shots as the gloaming of the day settled into my bones. I took a shot behind me and a shot in front of me - the ocean and the moon and the gorgeously lit harbour with all the boats and ships and peaceful waters.

Gratitude.

What are you grateful for?

Running Behind Myself

 It's odd that. I leap ahead to the old me and often get caught up in breathlessness or pain and I'm really, really slow in learning the lesson of slowing down. Honouring the what is and forgetting about the what used to be.

I always moved at the speed of sound just about, multi-tasked ad finitum, accomplished so much in one day that others were astonished.

I've done enough reading to know that I was a type A personality, always eager to prove myself (to whom, you might ask, but I really don't know) and a classic workaholic.

All is changed now that I am a few weeks into my 80th year having just reached my 79th a week or so ago.

Grandgirl is here and staying with me until next weekend which thrills me no end. Our twosome time. She's enormously attentive to my needs and even to my wants. Her cooking is amazing and we plan to catch some movies and/or series in the time she's here. She will be working remotely for a few days, which is fine by me. She's a federal economist and we are so proud of her as she is - seriously - quite brilliant. Her long term partner is staying with his parents who have moved here as his dad, though quite young, is terminally ill. A real tragedy.

I am busy counting all the gratitudes in my day as I tend to lose track when my health distracts from such feelings.

I am so grateful she is here and so very thankful for our long close relationship since I first laid eyes on her. 

I have much to catch up on, calls to return, emails to respond to, half done knitting to complete, so while she's here I can get cracking on all of that as even in this small apartment we have two separate rooms to work in. 

We also plan some wonderful beach time at this glorious place a few miles from my house.

Nothing for Granted

 The stuff we take for granted when we are in good health never fails to astound me now. I am so conscious that it can all be taken away in a heartbeat.

I had around two years of debilitating health deterioration, to the point where I had to buy those eggy frozen pre-mades for breakfast as I couldn't stand long enough at the stove to make my favourite porridge and cook my egg. Also because of the chronic anemia, I could only eat tiny amounts or I would go briefly blind as my blood was so bad. Literally. Frightening. I really never thought any kind of health and mobility could be restored. I'm still not too steady on the old pins but I can stand and do stuff now, hang pictures, wash the dishes, haul in groceries. Cook.

But enough of all that, I've written much about it here in the fervent hope that others don't need to carry their health challenges alone as the mental and emotional toll of that can be enormous.

So tonight I baked a spinach quiche. All by my little old self. And it tasted so good. Very simple old recipe - bits of bacon or ham, (4 eggs, 1/4 cup of real cream or less - mix these thoroughly), carmelized onions, mushrooms, chopped if you have them, 1 cup of finely chopped spinach or kale. Pour into a smallish pastry pie shell Top with a good cheese, grated or small lumps. Serves 4. Salad or coleslaw on the side. Omit meat if vegetarian. 

Randoms

 I managed to squeeze in an ocean restoration trip during the week. I was delighted to see a drummer practicing his craft at the shore. And even more delighted to find I could walk (with George, my cane, just to be safe) down to the waves and marvel at how life has changed for me.

I finally had the energy to walk in the glorious back garden of my building and snap these two shots of the tenderness and long shadows of autumn.

A lunch snap one day. Sour dough bread with gorgonzola cheese. Who else likes weird cheeses?

And finally, this made me laugh so hard - for all you cat lovers out there.

Thanksgiving.

Different to the US date. So have a happy one as we forge into winter and remember all that was good in the spring and summer. And the harvest. I think we're due a harvest moon soon. Out here on The Edge, it signals oyster hunting. Best time apparently.

I am here to report that my health has shifted mightily into comfortable hemoglobin and iron levels. So thanksgiving abounds in my small world. A combination of some stomach pills and iron every day. Some healing has occurred or some restored balance. And as my GP says: you are one of the few we can definitely say has no cancer or ulcers. 

We continue on this path in spite of the diagnosis of diverticulitis - a not uncommon condition of us elders due to age-thinning of the linings of our nether regions. I am relieved and grateful for the incredible medical procedures and superb care I have. I am now awaiting a report on the right eye blindness which seems to have been caused by a small stroke during one of the procedures (stress). So I had an MRI on my neck ordered by the retinal specialist to see if there was a blockage.

So there you have it. The organ recital.

In other news, I was on CBC television and radio chatting about the impact of recent price hikes on seniors, plunging some into poverty and looking at foregoing their cars due to unbelievable gas prices. My activism, in light of my renewed energy, has been re-ignited.

I also received unexpected funding for a series of writing workshops which excites me no end. It's the process I love and not so much the end of the journey where, last time,  we had an anthology published and launched proper-like, with food and signings and reading and joy.

I'm on my way to Niece's to gorge on turkey with all the trimmings and celebrate much with her lovely family.

My gratitude list is enormous.

How about yours?

This Old Carcass

It has served me well, I have to keep thinking of the positives rather than the negatives, which is an easy pit to fall into.

I have three more tests coming up. And I want these to be the end of it.

Next up is a colonography next week which involves starvation and massive amounts of ingestion of disgusting materials. A couple of bottles supplied by the hospital itself and a few more from the pharmacy. Fortunately, unlike the others, there will be no invasion of the outlying crevices of my body. 

A few days later, there's a new specialist investigating further why I went just about blind in my right eye the day after the colonoscopy. My eye doctor is baffled as the dye tests produced a normal.

And towards the end of the month there is a breath test scheduled which will validate/invalidate my own doctor's speculation that I have a hidden bleeding ulcer causing this constant, chronic and serious anaemia. 

My gratitude circles around the assurance that none of the specialists think this is cancer. And I can't praise enough the specialist care this old woman has received in their attempts to discover what  the hell is going on inside me. 

And the big one? The universal health care we have here in Canada.  Yes, it could be better, what system is perfect? But the fact that anyone from pauper to millionaire can access it for whatever medical crisis looms without going bankrupt or stressing about payment is one of the enormous benefits of living here.

Special hat tip to my own doctor, who calls regularly, monitors my blood, checks to make sure I attend my various hospital procedures and cheers me up with his humour and good nature.

And for those interested two charts.

First one is expenditures by country on health care - note universal health care spends less per capita.

The second chart is life expectancy in all these countries.

(Data published by Spartan News - Michigan State University)

Etcetera

 I was in my happy place (see above photo) in a welter of gratitude having been told an hour earlier that I didn't have cancer. Mind you this was after endless and often painful and exhausting tests. 

There was a long string of boats bobbing in the water which reminded me I should be carrying my "real" camera in the car and not this inadequate Android camera phone. It doesn't do the scene justice.

I still haven't found the "normal" run of myself but maybe that's now lost in the mists of time past. I do dream about "normal" at night. Much of it involving massive effortless hikes in the brilliant scenery and seascapes around these parts. I hate waking up with the threads of such dreams still befogging me like gentle spider webs.

I picked up this little shelf sculpture in Red Bay, (see above) where the graveyards of all the whales massacred in the time of the whale-oil industry for lamps and bones for corsets is a moving scene on the shore.

This place is so isolated and under-visited that the birds have a great time on the "killing fields" above, feeding on the sea urchins and shedding feathers. I thought these were perfect examples of the beauty of sea urchins and treasure the memories they hold. I was grateful for my racing red wheelchair that Grandgirl pushed so expertly through the paths and sometimes helpful boardwalks.

And isn't that what life is all about, finding the slivers of gratitude, often minuscule, but there amongst the ordinariness of it all if we look for them.

 

Gratitude

 DKZ, co-incidentally, wrote about this today.  Just as I was thinking of my own list.

Somedays it takes digging through the coal for the diamonds, other days those jewels shine with the power of the sun.

I am grateful for many things today.

(1)A tube of 7 Fathoms that Daughter brought me on the weekend. My own small tube was running out and I was using it sparingly but I wouldn't dream of saying that to her until she gifted me with a large tube of this magnificent lotion. 

(2) Walking 1,000 steps yesterday. Can't tell you the last time I could do that. Way back in the mists of time in 2020. This iron is kicking in. Big Time.

(3)Reading a fabulous book gifted to me by Grandgirl, The Purple Hibiscus. A gripping read.

(4) Watched a beautiful movie last night : A Song for Jenny - yes, I cried, but sometimes we just need a good ol' cry, right? So much bottled up during these Covid Times.

(5) Visiting all your blogs and getting caught up with your doings, and beings, and interests.

(6) Receiving a long post card from a friend who had previously ticked me off with unwanted advice, recalling a special star filled night we had watched together during the Perseid Meteor Shower and that he brought to mind many times since, one of the highlights of his life. Interestingly enough, even with the prestigious memory I do have, I have completely forgotten it.

(7) A brother celebrating his 72nd birthday today. And so grateful all six of us siblings are still alive and meeting on Zoom every Sunday from around the world.

Limbo

I can't thank you guys enough for all the private messaging and comments during my recent bout of illness. 

What I find most beneficial are the affirming comments and emails. 

What  I find devastating (and interestingly none of these from fellow blog-mates but from long term friends) are messages lecturing me on my "poor choices" in not going to the hospital for a multiple day stay in isolation and denying my feelings on the matter and told to think only of my being less of a burden on my family. As if I am incapable of making carefully evaluated decisions on my own.

It's been a rough old time, guys. Not enough strength to write most of the time. And you know, a lack of interest in life and most of all participating in it.

I am back on my iron pills and the last few days have seen a small resurgence in my energy. I am awaiting news of a more planned approach to this multiple testing rather than the awful rush of the last which would have been a disaster. And not just for me but for my family.

Enough said about it all. I am back in the writing saddle so to speak and can hardly wait to get caught up your blogs.

I managed to get to my beloved beach with Daughter yesterday. We picked up some Mexican take out for a picnic and drank in the gorgeous air so much we forgot to take photos. It felt like the clouds of winter and Covid were lifting us onto a different plane which was affirmed later by zero new cases in the province.

With this first taste of spring at 6 degrees celsius, there were many like thinkers, hikers, babies, children and dogs on the strand and all the magnificent trails surrounding it.

I felt very much part of the land of the living and not of the dead.

Update

 This iron tho!

It has me off the painkillers. I had a brief rotten reaction to the codeine where it heightened my symptoms. 

I am astonished at how forgiving the body is when corrections to deficiencies are made.

I'm not exactly planning a road race quite yet (my brain does this - it gallops ahead - the act of slowing down has been very difficult for me)  but I can walk across the room without taking a break.

I finally looked up the effects of chronic anaemia on the body and I completely fit the bill. I am surprised I could climb out of bed - albeit with some difficulty. I believe this downswing has been going on for a year, worsening just about every month and all my case doctors believing "another" doctor was taking care of it. I didn't mention my episodes of periodic blindness which were frightening, now also gone. Every afternoon for about 15 minutes. And putting my head down to "rest my neck". All iron deficiency. 

I have not heard from any specialist in the meantime to schedule the tests. We had a few more cases of Covid 19  hospitalized.  We are a tiny province and almost know each case personally or have one degree of separation from it. Daughter knows of a whole family down with it. Niece has had to contend with her whole family being exposed through schools - thankfully all negative.

In other news, I had to help a neighbour/friend out of a massive scam. The scammer emptied her pitiful bank account. A company based in Washington, DC. She didn't bother even with a basic Google on them which listed hundreds. The dollar signs of untold riches circled in her eyeballs. She only had to manage a website for Amazon. Believe me when I say that she can barely turn on her own computer. Absolutely no skill sets whatsoever.

Anyway long story short (and it did take a lot of my time, trust me) I reviewed the 6 page contract and found the tiny clause of "cancellation within 3 days" and immediately got a strong email out to them cancelling herewith and forthwith and witnessed and she got her money back.

So yes, she was crying in gratitude and shamed and humiliated too. 

No such thing as a free lunch. Ever. I am a born cynic of these "opportunities" as in my past career I counselled many such victims of pyramid schemes, investment goldmines, etc.

Thanks for all your wonderful and heartwarming wishes and the prayers from those who pray.

I will continue upward I hope.

One hour at a time.

Gratitude Lists

It's funny how I can lose track of such things which really help to lift the spirits. These are most important when when one thinks there's nothing to put on them.

Handwriting them is best, I find.The sound of the pen, thoughtful in its trailing across the page, pausing to reflect, carry on, fresh reflections, forgotten and taken for granted items coming to the forefront to meet the page.

(1)Daughter gave me prayer flags and I hung them across my open bedroom window.

I would hang them outside when I lived in a house. Reminders.

A friend of mine, my age, her hands shake constantly from an elder disease she has, her voice quavers as well.

(2) My hands are free of arthritis and free of shaking. My voice is still strong.

(3)I still enjoy my reading so much. My father was a voracious reader but abandoned it long before he passed.

(4)Daughter and Grandgirl have planned this glorious trip far away from here. WE will be leaving next weekend when Grandgirl's self-isolation is complete. More on that later.

(5) Two independent gifts of homemade bread at my door last night. I can lose track of such seemingly tiny things but they are truly enormous when one thinks of the labour and the sharing of such beautiful time and labour.

(6) A gift arriving here for a dear one's birthday next month - something I know she will absolutely love.

(7) This is my little office space which I share with my bedroom. I absolutely love it. It is extremely functional. And everything is close at hand.

Crows

I have six crows lined up on the wire outside my window at the moment and I was reminded of that old poem I knew as a child.

One for sorrow,
two for joy,
three for a girl,
four for a boy,
five for silver,
six for gold,
seven for a secret never to be told,
eight for a wish,
nine for a kiss,
ten for a time of joyful bliss.

I don't view such things as portents but I am reminded that I can see that for the past few days that gold has sprinkled my life.

I've had so much support in your comments and personal emails. I took an entire day off and contemplated what I should do.

And the answer as midnight struck was very simple indeed: Absolutely nothing.

Why worry this person unnecessarily with my observations of deteriorating health?

It would serve no purpose whatsoever apart from adding to their already huge stress and other health issues. And what can they do?

What can I do?

Be loving and supportive and work my way around whatever presents itself. I have had practice with my dear friend Lana and prior to her with Chuck.

Staying in the moment. Counting crows. Cherishing the gold - particularly with the support I get from all of you out there. Your words meant so much in a time of terrible distress and worry.

Thank you seems hugely inadequate.

Covid-19 (Day 29 of self-isolation)

Objet du Jour - a shawl I completed in about 40 shades of violet. I left it on my couch as I like looking at it and can hardly wait to waltz about outside in it.

There's a form of routine to my days, it's loose but there.

So here it is.

I get up at my usual time and make my breakfast (always a frightful bore - a large pot of dark roast - freshly ground beans, one egg and some healthy cereal with homemade yogurt and fresh or canned fruit) and well, 16 pills to start my day. All for kidney and heart and blood pressure function along with some D drops, some complex B and a baby aspirin (they don't call them that anymore right?)

I read my latest novel while I eat, a habit I've practiced for years except in my B&B days when I had to serve my guests. Afterwards it's Tao meditation time (I light a small candle) and the gathering of my self. I plan my meals for the day then so when I get involved in other stuff I know what I'm eating. I jot notes on whatever I'm writing.

Every morning, I email my small family (we have a group chat) a good morning wish and maybe a song or a positive thought. Today it was gratitude for their love for me and mine for them evidenced by a huge care package dropped off by my nephew last night which made me cry. Niece had put it together. I saw him through the heavy glass doors of my building and it felt so lonely and surreal as we waved at each other but this is much worse for them as he hasn't hugged his wife or his children in 4 weeks as he works in an environment that is high risk.

Then I check the newspapers - all digitally. I post relevant news items on the Covid-19 site I founded. And read comments and moderate and kick off misbehaving members with their own hateful agendas. Then I write for a while, or I knit. Or blog. Or a mix of everything. If I attend a Zoom meeting I knit which is a bonus.

I am never bored. I feel enormously free to do stuff now without the pressure of other stuff, if you know what I mean. My meds and groveries are delivered, I can PJ myself all day if I want. I don't have to interact with small talk ever (it drives me bats, call me deranged, I truly have to scrabble around in my brain to find bland sentences to volley back at the ones that are thrown at me).

Here are Canadian woman physicians singing one of my favourite songs of all time (originally written and sung by the Rankin Family).

Have a listen. Try not to let a tear leak. But ah go on - do, it's good for you. You don't have to be tough all the time.

Gratitude

Thank you all for the comforting words on my last post. They meant more than I can say.

A mixed bag of items here.

To start with the weather outside as I hit the keyboard:

It is hard to believe that this continual assault of terrible weather has not lessened as we brace ourselves for more. That is our building manager outside, struggling with the snow blower. The snow goes upward and horizontally in the driving wind, a blizzard.

Gratitude # 1

I live in this building, protected from the elements, knowing the snow is going to be taken care of.

My niece let me know about this Geist competition - a postcard story, and asked me to look at her two entries which blew me out of the water they were so fantastic. It fired up my own story brain and I hauled down this card sent by an Ontario friend last year which reminded me of a crow story I wrote about in my blog and I didn't check the blog entry out as I thought I would delve into memory and see what I recollected and maybe enhance it or dramatize it. So that's what I did.

Gratitude #2

My creativity hasn't abandoned me.

Daughter can't seem to do enough for me. It truly overwhelms me at times. A lot of small stuff but it is the small stuff that is always the most important. I had briefly mentioned that my Amazon order was delayed as ferries weren't running and it had my annual load of TP on it. I laughed as I was going to borrow a roll from a friend to - ahem - tide me over. And Daughter shows up yesterday with a cartload of TP and stocked me up along with 2 lbs of my favourite dark roast coffee beans and took me out for a fabulous brunch (Croque Monsieur, fresh fruit, home made hashbrowns) at Baystar. We forgot to take pics as we fell on the food so fast.

Gratitude #3

The tiny gifts in life are by far the most important of all. And nothing is as precious as the care and attention of a loved one.

I could write loads more (I have had two trips to the hospital for more tests with the support of a friend) but this is enough for today.

I am in a place of gratitude and I want to savour it.

Free Floating Fridays

I have my new card in at the printers.

(My name has been removed from both for anonymous blog purposes).


This is the picture.

This is the story poem that goes with it on the back of the card:

Faded Blue

Memories escaping
From tired windows,
The brooding chimney
And silent doors.

Music, feasting,
Laughing, storytelling
Now tumbling across
The sunny meadow

Seeking a new home.

(An abandoned house in Pouch Cove, NL, Canada.)

Please note the inside of the card is blank.


I hold the odd giveaway here in gratitude to so many of you.

If you would like me to snail mail you one of these cards, please let me know in comments or email me at wisewebwomanatgmaildotcom.

I will draw 5 names next week.

A Nugget

Reflecting on so much this morning.

Many, many blogmates have such challenges at the moment. One wrote her last blog post. Heart-breaking. We had exchanged much over the years, she would send me Tennessee handmade soap Another, a pillar of elder-blogging, is facing a very finite life now after many treatments. Another's wife has been diagnosed with a serious cancer. I won't link to any of them for if you've been following them at all you'll know. And I respect their privacy at this time. I know that many of my long term blog-mates follow the same blogs as I.

All of this to say, I've lost a few dear blog mates over the years. One develops quite a history when you read each other's words. Often daily. And it focuses my mind very sharply as I head in that same direction myself. I am under no illusion of eternal life. Unless you count stardust which may not be as inanimate as we think. To dust we shall return has massive truth.

So the nugget?

Take absolutely nothing for granted.

Maybe that's the secret of life?

I look around within my own radius and even the tiniest things bring me joy. I don't take any of them for granted. In spite of whatever ails me - you know what I mean.
An African Violet that won't stop blooming

A chair seat cover that I just knitted - it needs to be blocked and finished but I totally love its Mexican flavour, it cheers my heart.

A turquoise wall panel that I managed to hang (it's in an awkward spot behind my immovable bed) and attach some meaningful cards to. I love how I can change the art around as the mood takes me.

And last but not least a shawlette I knitted for a friend in New York, a friend of nearly 52 years, we met on the last emigration liner leaving Ireland back in the distant days.

It really does fill the heart to look around - what do you see from where you're sitting, standing, lying? And do you take it/them for granted?