habits, ice, peanuts

* He always marveled, exclaimed, that I can do without something--coffee, cigars, ice cream. That I had no habits that were not able to be broken. I am slowly breaking the habit of him.

* A thin sheet of ice on the windshield in the morning if I forget to put the car away.

* Freshly ground peanut butter, eaten alone with a spoon.

okay, flying

* If we see each other do not ask me how I am because I am okay unless you ask me how I am.

* Whenever  I fly, which is not often these days, I remember the time I flew with my father across 3 time zones. I was taking him to a new home. He had dementia. And Parkinson's. His legs pained him and the remedy was for him to walk up and down the aisle, tottering along. That was okay on the big, stable, plane but the small one buffeted around so much that on one pass of our seats he said in a voice loud enough to pierce the engine (yes, I think it was a singular engine!) roar, "Hell, Girl! Who's flying this plane?" In his walking he was very much like one of those wind up toys that strike out into the world after having been wound up. It took much diplomacy to get him to sit down so the pilot could land. The pilot was kind--he patiently circled the landing strip how many times before my father finally squeezed into his seat. I miss him so much....

shed, garage, Tonga

* I find a post of March written in happiness because I found a shed which was also a hot house. I remember that day. A bright jewel .

* So happy to be able to pull the car into the garage. Wallowing in anticipation of an ice free windshield.

* The person working on the sidewalk is from Tonga.

book, potatoes, game

* He says he will write me into his book--as the next door neighbor. I list my characteristics for him then giggle because he knows me well enough.

* "I think there's a dead mouse behind stuff in the kitchen."
   "Could be potatoes."
   "Dying potatoes do smell."
   "It was potatoes."
   "Potatoes are moisture triggered."

* "She remembered who she was and the game changed."

text, furnace, suitcase, life

* I get a late night text: "I think there's a dead mouse behind stuff in the kitchen." Ah, the beginning of "dead mouse in the kitchen" season. Lucky her. None of my mice in the kitchen are dead.

* I sit in the big room. I look out the top of the windows at the trees (2 pines, 3 aspen) swaying in the wind, beaten by rain. I notice the dogs asleep on their bunk bed (the sofa). The clock ticks. A fragrant candle glows. First day of furnace turn on--in September?? Early this year.

* My suitcase (why call it a suitcase? I put no suits into it) is spread over the table that no one eats at. Very conveniently at waist level. A trip, an amble, an adventure.

* Old habits fall by the life side. Today I did not buy a NYT. Gradually, I put together another life. I sometimes feel deflated having lived up to now with 24 stuffed hours in my day. So I sit in the big room:trees, dogs, clock, candle, furnace.

pencil, step, biscotti

* I like scribbling with a pencil but it's skirt gets in the way.

* Reading Katherine Graham's memoir. What she stepped into after her husband's unexpected death!

* Biscotti dipped into hot chai. Oh my!

Team, bear, faces, war

* I want a "team" so we can go on a "journey" together.

* A bear two blocks from the house.

* The dogs put up with my washing of their faces at the pump.

* "War is human nature on steroids." Ken Burns

Okra

* Spur of the moment I decide to take the car through the car wash. Confined to the tunnel of swish swish and monsoon water sprays I remember the okra that I  just picked up. Yum.

yogurt, board, mouse

* Orange and ginger yogurt=yum

* With no more bookshelf space I repurpose (giggle at the use of that word) the ironing board.

* Mouse scampering about my garden=cute, saucy, dear.
   Mouse in my kitchen=the devil incarnate, evil.

cheeses, deck, bundled up

* Finishing up the cheeses I bought for R twelve weeks ago. My throat tightens and then a relief sweeps over me. He is gone but his pain and the downward spiral are gone also.

* The deck guy rebuilt the deck and now my pencil does not fall through the cracks!

* Reading all day on the deck garbed in sweaters and hat---almost ready to hop up and get gloves.

box

* Up at 4 am, just done with sleep. Ah! A hot cup of chai. Why is the chai mix yellow instead of brown? What is that awful smell? It looked like the chai box! Really a chicken broth box.

stream, scrabble, line

* The drive to the po is a bit more tame these days. Use to be I drove through a stream of icy water in a low patch. The county got organized, unfortunately, and built a bridge.

* A continuing Scrabble game laid out on the dining room table--no tally kept.

* Why is the dog's favorite poop place on the ground under the clothes line?

dream

* I am still reacting to the most vivid dream I have ever had:
  I am driving my wished for dream car (yellow VW bug) through a post apocholiptic (I know, I know, sp) landscape. "Mad Max" "Terminator" scene. Rutted road, towering hulks of building debris everywhere, grey sky. No shooting or warring people. My yellow car is the only color in the dream. (Similar to that scene in "Schindler's List"when people are being herded around, all in black. One little girl in a red coat is walking out in front of them.) In the back seat are my brother and father giving me driving instructions: "Turn here. Watch out for the hanging girder. No, no. Not the pothole!" I do not pay the slightest attention to them, do not yell at them or tell them to shut up but continue on successfully dodging obstacles. Doing it my own way.
Of note: in real life they are both dead & they both never thought me, a weak woman, could ever accomplish, navigate, live through anything. I have been reluctant to buy a yellow VW bug because I like to haul around things and I thought a bug is not big enough for hauling. However.....if my brother and father can fit in the back seat......hmmmmmm!

V/V,weeding, valley

*  "Get up.
     Shut up.
     Throw up."

* Oh, Matthias. "A Little Chaos" My garden needs weeding.

* The road to the PO will never bore me.  Every time I come to the crest of the hill and the valley pops out in front of me......always the mountains are different, the air is different. Today, sounds individualized and jumped into my open window....the snort of a horse who had his head over the fence close to the road....a single note of a bird...water let out of the res rushing through the ditch bending down the tall grasses.

po, movies, best

* On the road to the PO aromas waft through the open car window: a freshly mowed alfalfa field, a prairie dog field, a herd of goats. The joy of late summer air.

* Watching movies previously verboten.

* Late at night I analyse my best moment of the day to be when I got the dog outside before she threw up inside.

O'K, phone, dogs

* I have done nothing at all this summer but wait for myself to be myself again.
   G O'K

* I turned off his phone today.

* The dogs follow me from room to room making sure they never sleep deeply enough to miss my moves.

tired, Burns, movie, heal

* That oh so heavy eye lid feeling when so tired but want to finish the movie.

* Seeing the humor in bullies and arrogant people--straight from a Robert Burns poem.

* "Blue"

* "Always defend your right to heal at your own pace. You are taking your time. You are allowed to take your time." Read this to yourself when you think you are not progressing properly.

tree, dogs, meeting

* The daylight hours of two days I have spent outside on the deck under the maple tree braving the limbs still hanging by what looks like threads. Today the wind was such that the limbs creaked and swayed so that when the shade I chased was under them I avoided my book and looked skyward more than read.

* Long haired dogs whose tails blow about in the wind.

* Anticipating a first meeting of the year.

sheets, money, zoo

* Everytime I organize myself to remake the bed with clean sheets before I begin the dog jumps up for a cozy lie down. Everytime I have to convince him that a nap on the bed at this time is not going to be productive for either of us.

* In a quest for I won't say saving money but so that I can have more to spend. (Go figure that one out!) I am disconnecting the tv. None of my three children are connected so I know I can do this too.

* At times I am sure that I live in a zoo. One dog snores house shakingly (the spell correction thing had fun with that one). The other wakes in a bark at the least bit of sound or smell from outside. I cleaned under the bed today and found dried up throw up. But I have clean sheets tonight properly tucked in. Clean sheets in my zoo.

sheets, deck, tree

* Sheets with little tags that disclose which side goes where.

* A repaired deck. I do not want to put anything on it. I just want lie on it and watch the maple tree.

* Ah...the maple tree. A tree trimmer once left his saw dangling from a branch. There was the saw through the winter swaying over the deck, aimed at who ever came out the door. Too high for me to reach. When I hired to clean out the gutters I offered the saw to keep if he reached up and got it down. He did. I also gave him the saw with the long handle which had been left propped up against the shed. Did this tree trimmer on the spur of the moment change professions? "Hell. I'm not going to do this anymore."  So all in all it is an Edgar Allen Poe-ish tree.