scar tissue

Love this:

Scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue.
Know this and move on.

in old age, deck, shed

*In old age I have arrived at the uncomplicated, emotionally level critique free place in which I refrain from tempting, hair (mine) pulling reactions to certain people.
 I thump myself on my higher nether region for being able to allow the stupidity and arrogant unkindness of said certain people with whom I interface (they truly are in my face)to slide out of my thoughts.
 Latest: a well known Canadian knitter who lectured locally Wednesday night
           GM-who attempts to blob to the surface of my mind frequently
           anyone who denigrates my knitting
----This is not a challenge to stupid, arrogant people.

*A Saturday on the sun drenched deck-especially knowing the number of such Sat's are limited.

*My yellow shed ("That could not be more yellow," said the deck repairman. Who if he reading this--which I doubt--I implore to return to said deck to complete its refurbishing!)

floaters, curl, lights

* The floaters in my left eye are like little black worms swimming around---fascinating but irritating when I want to read. My optometrist reassures me about my general eye health, knowing of all the junky chemicals  that have been injected into my system recently. She  assures that even after all the cancer treatment is over a body continues to have a "reaction" time and needs TLC and understanding.

* How are dogs able to curl up so compactly?

* Fairy lights across the windows.

peeking, lice hats

* When Rufus and I play our peeking game my eyes stray to the unmasked window...hooray! a day of snow and cold=no spring weeding.

* A lovely walk through the blowing snow in a white out--my dark sweater is liberally sprinkled with large flakes. Reminds me of Norse lice sweaters.

* Hats. On my walk I browse my 'breakfast at Tiffany's' store and find a new straw gardening hat.

slather, marg, id

* I slather on tanning cream, lounge outside and am rewarded with a health glow.

* I order my marg in a "Texas glass"--I fear tipping over the tall regulation marg glass.

* The luxury of old age (and caller id) when I can decide not to answer the telephone.

reading: Sword & Blossom by Peter Pagnamenla
            Queen Victoria's Second Son by John Van Der Kiste
            The Court of  the Last Tsar by Greg King (and using wikipedia a lot!)

tidy, deeply, focus

* The spring sun warms my back as I tidy the herbs and spices garden. Happy to see how many plants withstood winter's mayhem. When I sit on the garden chair to catch my breath my fingers smell of herbs.

* Because of the outdoor work I sleep deeply at night.

* Sitting here just now my eyes focus and unfocus on the comforter cover and I see shapes and depths previously unseen. How like a situation or other person when I step back away.

nyt, d,Ramona

* The luxury of lying on the sofa with the NYT on a Sunday morning.

* Formulating a decision at last and then brushing away all of the discussion
to be able to go on to implementing.

* I found  Ramona at the bookstore. The last time I saw her we were sitting in the waiting room of the radiation oncologist's office. Now, at the bookstore, we silently gaze into one another's eyes...We made it. We made it. My first (bookstore) sentence to her was.."Your skin is so fresh and smooth and beautiful!"

breakfast, tart, batik, Wes

* "I fed the dogs."
   "I fed the dogs."
   And I giggle periodically throughout the day. They thought nothing odd about    getting two breakfasts--did not even tell us.."Errr, guys you fed us already."

* The tartness, almost bitter, of icy cold lemon Italian soda.

* When the light begins to come through the upper six panes of my window the tree limbs create a batik against the light blue sky.

* The lights dim. We sit exposed to interminable, dreadful ads and reminders to turn off our cell phones...........then brilliance, clever dialogue, vibrant colors. Wes Anderson=ahhhhh!! 

reading: Victoria's Daughters by Jerrold M Packard
            The Girl From Foreign by Sadia Shepard

black ball, breath, marvel

* The little black ball of fur is sleeping still on the sofa opposite when I peek open my eyes. Unusual, because he wakes me. I watch him sleep until he cracks open an eye to look over at me. We lie in our cosy warmth gazing at one another.

* My breath is visible when I stand on the deck watching the dogs cavort (how can they be so alive this early?) and I am comforted by the knowledge of the day's warmth to come.

* To gaze at a poster of an artist's work and marvel at his abilities and sensitivities although I totally disagree with his politics.

reading: Nina's Journey by Nina Markovna