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.

Analogy for Life

So like all carefully plotted and planned ventures, my latest knitting project blew up.

My rebellious circular needle gave up the ghost and gathered much of my stitchery to its shattered bosom before it did so.

Above you see the lifesaving results of many needles salvaging the disaster.

And here a McGyver solution on the brazen suicidal needle loop.

A mugshot of the disgraced needle.

And finally, after a few intense hours, a triumphant photo of the restored work.

My local knitting supply shop were so fantastic and as soon as my car pulled up out shot an employee with my blessed silvery brand new needle. Note to self: always have a back up needle for a project..

All the above inspired me to write this:

Time

At times like these

Uncertain, unfinished, unknown

The ancestors sit on my shoulders

And say, over and over again

As if I’m still three

“What are you afraid of, girl?

What exactly?”

And then I take this sliver of time

And roll it around in my hands

And stare at it, at all the colours of it,

Mutating, twisting, transforming,

And say back to them, the wise dead ones,

“Afraid? Me? No!

Look at the colours of now!

Aren’t they beautiful?”

No Roadmap.

Old age is not an overcoat I slip into easily,

I feel threadbare, uneasy in my own skin

Memories flood my mind of those beloveds lost

And never found except as dimly lit ghosts.

Daily challenges are suddenly mountainous

And steal more time from my meagre pantry.

I was feeling very tired recently. I never think to myself, there's something wrong. I always say to myself, well, it's old age, everything starts to break down.

And then I'm with one of my specialists yesterday and he tells me my hemoglobin has tanked and I need to get iron infusions from here on in.

And I ask myself, why do symptoms become so difficult to sort out from aging itself and I bet this also happens to others in the elder boat. Writing every peculiarity off to the aging process.

There is no roadmap that I'm aware of. It's a kind of hit or miss senior life. Is this serious? Do I sound like a whiny baby with an organ recital for every day of the week? Should I just up and get on (poorly) with putting one foot in front of the other while craving my bed at eleven in the morning?

I'll tell you a story about a dear friend of my daughter's who's a little older than I. She went off to the hospital to have her heart checked and felt very weak and sick after her treadmill test. So much so when she got home she had to use a walker (Zimmer frame to many of you). There is a shallow step between her kitchen and living area and the very next day (yesterday) the frame caught on this and tumbled her to the ground, unconscious. She has multiple fractures and had to be carted away by ambulance. 

And I ask myself why do elders go through awful testing sometimes - you might remember I went nearly blind in my right eye after one such procedure as it was so painful and I wasn't permitted anesthesia due to the medications I am on.

Needless to mention after her friend's accident, Daughter called me and asked me about surfaces and do I rest after getting upright from my bed, etc. And do I take my time going down steps or stairs. Next step, a videocam on Mother (joking).

Which got me writing the above poem and thinking at this precious time in our lives when time is in short supply we gobble up so much of it just in walking upright carefully and being vigilant in not tumbling or falling or stabbing ourselves with sharp objects.

 

Catch & Release

A lovely shot of Grandgirl as we sat on the Southside Hills of St. John's.

Time dribbles away from me. I couldn't seem to get much of anything done. Living in a fugue of disappointment in myself. I decided to make some changes. Small. How on earth do I manage time more successfully and not feel I had "wasted" it even though I'd have 2,000 words written or a piece of knitting completed or a book read. I couldn't seem to get a handle on it at all, to feel satisfied instead of this miasma of dissatisfaction and a sense of failure and disorganization.

And in the past few days, after a few Tao meditations the answer came.

What I have found successful in the distant past and subsequently abandoned was the timer system.

So what I've been doing is timing my activities, or I should say adding a timer to my days. For instance in the mornings after meditation and reflection and gratitude, I read for 30 minutes. Then I knit for an hour (a great way of thinking also). Then I do an hour of dreaded housework and I find it's not shirked anymore. I can get a lot done in an hour of housework in my apartment, putting away laundry, bagging up the detritus that Grandgirl left behind for her mother, doing the morning dishes, sorting out clothes for this weekend as I'm away overnight for part of it, tidying up the bathroom - I had not only 2 staying here for nearly 2 weeks but 3 staying here last weekend: you can't imagine the havoc this creates in a hermit's life! Then I sorted all the lovely haphazard cards and notes I've received this year and displayed them nicely. You catch the drift.

My free creative time is now so I blog and then am going to design a shawlette for my sister as my next project.

For the first time in ages I feel I'm on top of my time and my enjoyment level of my life has risen dramatically.

I highly recommend it to others who tend to fritter and fooster as I did and have this sense of unease and failure.

I may need reminders of this post.

Travelling Theatre Troupe

~~~~~Ansa, taking a break from rehearsals~~~~~

Our cast and crew of my play were 'away' this past weekend, so we made a 'time' of it. 'Time' being part of the Newfoundland lexicon.

time n DC ~ n (1950, 1963); cp DAE 10: on a time 'spree' (1855 quot), NID 12 c 'carousal.' A party or celebration, esp a communal gathering with dancing, entertainment, etc; cp SCOFF n

Cast and crew number 12 of us, well 13 when you include my dog Ansa, who has become an integral part of rehearsals and getaways and is quite spoiled by everyone.

I've talked about this amazing cast before but given the afore-mentioned 'time' more talents unfolded. One actor channels Bob Dylan in his spare time and another rivalled KD Lang in a performance of Hallelujah. We had to drag ourselves off to bed as I think we could have partied until dawn, but had our audience to keep in mind for a top-notch performance of the play the following day.

I'm beyond delighted to be a part of all this, especially with Grandgirl in tow who said to me coming home in the car:

"Boy, grandma, I sure wish that looking down the road, my gang can have this kind of fun once we're older!"

Amen, baby. Amen.

~~~~~~~Curtain call and standing ovation.~~~~~~~

~~~~All pictures taken by Grandgirl.~~~~

One of these Days

{where the cabin will sit, if and when I get around to it!}

1. I’ll not procrastinate and then when even a small little glitch occurs in my life it won’t be cataclysmic in its domino effects.

2. I’ll actually be able to enjoy the opening up of a day when simply everything planned doesn’t happen for one reason or another.

3. I’ll actually buy the daffodil bulbs and plant them all over the little hill by the sea.

4. I’ll go to look at some small cabins and order one and get it installed way up high amongst the trees on the hill at the back of my house so I have somewhere just to meditate, dream, design without phones or computers distracting me.

5. I will actually say: How exciting, I have literally nothing to do!

6. I will sit down and take a week and edit my short story collection.

7. I will utilize a wonderful prepaid gift my daughter gave me of a service creating a book of my pictures and poems.

8. I will welcome drop in visitors and not get edgy because of (1).

9. I will have all ingredients on hand to cook a spontaneous large dinner and get on the phone and invite people over that day, last minute, like a few of my much admired friends do.

10. I will actually show up at the old folks’ home near me and say: Hey, I’d like to volunteer, anyone need some reading to?

11. I will clean a room every day, tidy up as I go, clean the bathroom after use and not be cringing when drop-ins wish to use it.

12. I will do something with my stash of wools and the plans I have to recycle old aran sweaters into awesome bags.

13. I will decide that enough is enough. More is only more. Simplicity of possessions and desires makes for serenity and like, um, discipline and routine makes for good orderly direction.

One of these days I won't behave as if I've got 200 years to live.