Not checking out but...

The last two months of my grandmothers life she could not eat. At the tender age of 93 she developed a stomach issue and eating became a sad chore which she gave up on. I will say she had amazing legs before she checked out. "Great gams" as she showed me her legs, and, you know, she was right! The only food she said she fantacized about was bean soup. She thought that was just plain weird and I have to agree with her. Not chocolate but beans....get a life! But you know, she is right in many ways. Today I tried to think of what I wanted for dinner. Chocolate sounded good but impractical, so I went with the beans. I had canned up some white beans awhile back so I opened a pint of those beans. Added some chopped up ham and then a bit of cumin...my new love. Then added some parsley and chives at the last minute and ate same. It made a wonderful soup...and no, I am not dying! Just enjoying the change of a good soup. I am excited to think I might be able to live with my food storage next year. It has been 3 years now that I have not lived with my food storage and I miss it. I am not good at thinking of things too far ahead and most of the meals I like to prepare I can't because the food is in storage, but not where I am. So I just punt and that has not been always the wisest way of doing things. We will see how it all comes down, but I at least have the possibility of living in my own home again and that is really something that makes me happy. Camping is grand, but I need to go home sometimes too.

Time not invested

So much that I should be doing and so little interest in doing same, so I will write a few paragraphs and then I will get to task. I find it hard to start things when I know I cannot finish them, and what with my weird work schedule that is a constant companion. Should get used to it but I don't seem to be doing that. I just finished reading "The Lucky One". Checked it out from the library because I needed something and thought I might enjoy same....not. Makes me feel like I should go brush my teeth or something after reading it. I guess it is well written but so not my style. Needless to say I won't be investing in the movie right away, although I know movies rarely stick to the book. I usually prefer the book so knowing that I didn't care for the book only makes me more sure I won't like the movie. To each their own, and that is not my style. I am trying to find a day when I can navagate a move back south. There is something going on almost all days so it is not an easy thing. I figure to rent a small u-haul, the smallest, and then just do it. I am going to move most of my things into my shop for the time being, and then put me in the Connie P. I can live at the cabin while still having room for family at the cabin, and you know how much I enjoy the Connie P so that is no major punishment. The small shower, OK, that might not be working for a whole month but we will see. I think I can move everything alone, or with Linda, except the heavy sewing machine and that I will need muscle power to help me move. I thought I would contact the Baesler boys and ask for help, I know they will do it if they can. That will solve everything the easy way. But that is all in the first part of June I think, so why chew on it now! Back to reality....

Memories are such weird and strange things, triggered by who knows what. So when you find one that is triggered by something you recognize it is a satisfying thing. My kitchen floor was grabbing at my feet as I walked over it this morning, that “too many spills” kind of thing. So I cleaned the kitchen and then got to washing the floor. Mind you, I wish I had a mop but not enough to drop things and go get one and the only time I wish I had one was when I would be using same....hence I never remember to purchase one. And there is one at the cabin so time will take care of the problem. Anyway, I filled a pan half full of warm water and then put in the Mr. Clean, and there was the memory click. My mother only used Mr. Clean if she had the choice and therefore that smell is strongly connected to my mother. I knelt down on the floor and started rubbing the orange cloth over the floor and rinsing it in the solution to continue on. Now I am done and it is drying and I am writing, but in order to dump the cleaning solution I would have to walk over the wet floor, not an option when there is a much easier way...wait for it to dry! For many years I was responsible for my mothers kitchen and dinning room floors, and they were always cleaned with Mr. Clean. As my life became more and more crazy and Nancy needed income I asked my mom if she could just hire Nancy to do the job and she was more than pleased to do that “if she will do a good job”. She had her care givers do the floors but they never got them truly clean (they used the wrong products!) and she wanted my word that Nancy would get them truly clean. I gave her my word and Nancy went to work. She did all the cleaning chores on the main floor of the house (remember, this is a three story house so that is relevant!). One day Nancy was frantically busy and my mother was complaining that the floors desperately needing cleaning and that if Nancy was not going to do it I was do get it done. And then Mom and Dad left for breakfast at the Clover Patch as normal. Nancy and I arrived at the house ready to take aim, but time was so short. I reverted back to something I did as a young person. I swept and Nancy vacuumed, then we poured about a quarter cup of Mr. Clean into the laundry tray and did not rinse it out. It is an extremely old laundry tub so it would not totally drain, and we carefully poured it so that it didn't. Mom got home a time later and effervesced to me at what a good job Nancy had done on the floors, she could not have been more pleased. Truth be told, my mother looked for the marks on the carpet that the vacuuming cleaner made and she smelled the air for the Mr. Clean, she never looked at the floors! Yes, in her day that was not true, but as she aged it became true and I used that fact occasionally and so did Nancy. We maintained personal integrity and did that “smoke and mirrors” routine only rarely, but it still makes me smile. So today I am typing and smiling as I inhale that tell-tale smell as I sit here at the computer. The carpet is so poor here that you can not see the tracks of the vacuuming cleaner so it is only a half memory, but a satisfying one all the same. It all reminds me that we need to keep our values straight. If cleaning the kitchen floor is more important than the people we need to take a good look at priorities. Yes, it is important to be clean, but people are way more important than floors and all. I joke frequently that I clean people out of my place and not into my place, and it is true. If you come to see me you should be here to see me and not check out my floors etc. I try not to let that be an excuse to live in filth, but it is still something that I strongly believe. I feel better when things are clean so I clean for me, not to impress others and for that I can smile at my messes, at my clean smell and at this memory.

and so it goes...

My life certainly seems like a round trip. Lots of things just keep coming back again and again, does that mean I am not learning the lesson the first time around? I refuse to go there but there is a slight possibility that could be true. The flip side, however....the Gospel is true and there is no new route to the same place. Something about the straight and narrow. Anyway, I am back into primary. They finally found my records and they will read me in next Sunday and sustain me back into Primary...wahoo....I was hoping to stay a little loose so that I might be able to do a little going here to there to see family. The Bishop assures me there are good substitutes but I have always found that substitutes are good untio you ask them to take your class, and then they are absent. Oh well, I will deal with it. He was not too sure as to which class but he thought it would be the 10 year old kids...."a real handful" was his comment. Well at least it has the same job description as most of my callings.

This is not on topic, but I am watching the golden globes and older women should not wear clothes designed for younger women....Jessica Lang has a saggy back totally exposed for the world to look at. Yes, full coverage in front but not nearly enough fabric in back. Why are we, as women, always trying to pretend we are not who we are. There is beauty in all ages if we will just accept ourselves for what we are....mature and just fine.

That said, I will go run over some Mozart and see how it plays this evening. This morning it was not playing well....fingers were just not moving in the way my brain was asking them. Just because it is fast and tight, two of my least favorite things, it was pathetic. There is a Left hand section that is extremely close note wise with Right hand melody that moves chromatically down the keyboard, and I need to lead with LH 4 and I keep putting down 5...bummer! I can do this, it is just doing it at the right tempo with the right notes at the right time. This too shall pass

Another year, another performance

I have a whole 15 minutes before I need to be on the raod again...plenty of time to write an entry. Particularly if you come to the realization that most everything in my life is done in little time frames. It seems the world does not think I need bigger targets of time. It is a season, or so I keep telling myself!

I played for the seniors at the Bayview senior center this morning for an hour and now I am headed back to Freeland and Maple Ridge to do the same thing, different place however. I think playing for the seniors is one of the good things that I get to do. They seem to appreciate the effort and that is plenty of pay for me. I can not imagine having time to just hang out with friends and listen to the music of my interest. It is a good thing. And I take Carson with me so he entertains when I don't. He is so good with people and just smiles from the bottom of his soul if something moves him. He has always gone with me but I feared he would not co-operate as he got mobility, but he still tolerates being tied into the stroller so that I can keep track of him while I keep track of notes too. He is a pretty easy young man. He seems to enjoy the music, but twice in one day might be a high price for him. We will see how this all plays out.

The Lord gave me back my music when it should have been gone forever so I feel I need to hold up my end of the bargain. I said I would make my music available to anyone with no charge if he would allow me to keep playing....and great I am no longer, but I am good enough to make people enjoy the efforts. You always win when the Lord is on your side!

The Christmas Rose

I grew up with Larry Nelson on KOMO radio. I listened to him from childhood through adult life. Basically from when he started broadcasting to when he retired. He actually went to school with Don Bruneau which added a little more interest to my listening. He loved poetry and would frequently share poems and thoughts he had on the radio in the mornings. One of the poems he sited had to do with the Christmas Rose. I don't remember much about the poem, other than it has given me a special feeling for a flower that can hold on until Christmas. And that is what I have this season. In back of my apartment there are several old roses that have seen little to no care in years, I am sure. But there are two roses that have just opened. One is probably white while the other is a watery yellow, but both are entering full bloom as Christmas also enters full bloom. There is a song "Lo How a Rose Er Blooming" by someone that refers to Christ as that rare rose. I understand that because it is so special and so of notes.

I am glad Christmas is upon us for a myriad of reasons, high on the list is I just enjoy the holiday. But equally as high is the reality that we all invest a lot of time and energy into making it happen, it is nice to play it to fruition. I have had a great deal of fun getting things together this year. It has been a difficult season of my life and I have been hanging on to the beautify and reality of Christmas maybe a little more than a normal year. Though my life has been insane there are good things that are a constant, and Christmas is one of those wonderful constants. Ready or not it is upon us and I celebrate that.

So like my valiant roses we all need to just persevere to the end, enduring so that we might grow to perfection and enjoying the process. Merry Christmas, one and all, know that I celebrate it this day and every day.

Those dang sea gulls

I have spent the last three years of my life watching sea gulls and have arrived at some conclusions as far as they are concerned. I have heard them described as rats with wings, but such nice looking rats they are! At the beach they were out harvesting the tide flats in the morning, picking up clams or whatever to take into the air and drop. They harvested what was there and they fit in their environment perfectly. They were everywhere all winter but were represented by only a few in the summer by comparison. Procreation took precedence over harvest I might observe.

Now I live next to the football field and watch those same birds go through a really different ritual. In the morning I get up to watch them march down the football field to turn around and march back the other way. Where is the gull dignity in this? Gulls were meant for sea food not angle worms or whatever. Robins eat worms, crows eat worms but what is this with the sea gulls?

I will give them a vote for entertainment. It is rather like a slow motion game of football minus the ball and the tackles. I have seen many a high school football game with just about as much organization. But the food is more typical to the species...french fries and the likes...no worms!

In the grand scheme of things the life of a sea gull does not matter much, but they certainly do entertain me!