I’m home as of about 3:00 this afternoon. I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept since 5:00 yesterday morning. Here you see my very own photo of Machu Picchu taken with a little point-and-shoot Sony digital. I have one expression that I used over and over: “Wow! Look at that!” I will share more of my trip later. Now I’m going to bed.
Mother’s love is peace. It need not be acquired; it need not be deserved. ~ Erich Fromm
The average dog is a nicer person than the average person. ~ Andrew A. Rooney
This slightly fuzzy photo is Gus. He didn’t really want to pose for me and that’s my excuse for the less-than-focused image. I had the privilege of caring for Gus over the weekend. He’s my neighbor’s dog and his usual “sitter” wasn’t available.
I could tell that K was a little hesitant to ask me to keep him, but I’m betting my enthusiastic response quelled any concerns she may have had. “Of course, I would love to have Gus for the weekend!” Here’s the deal–I’ve thought about having a pet again because I sometimes get lonely. This was just the opportunity I needed to make up my mind. Do I want a dog? Or not?
For two nights Gus slept on the floor beside my bed. He was a very good boy. No noises during the night. He doesn’t need to go out during the night. He gets two meals a day, morning and night. He will play fetch as long as his human will, but when the human gets tired and says, “OK, Gus, sit.” Gus sits. And grins. And drools a little. Of course he doesn’t sit for long because he wants to get as close to his human as possible. He even tried to get in my lap once or twice. Not a good fit, though. Still, the effort on his part is endearing.
You’re probably thinking by now that I’m getting a dog. I’m not. Having him next door is just enough of a doggie fix for me. He helped me to realize that I truly don’t want the responsibility and the inconvenience. I can visit Gus when I want. I can visit my granddogs Wilson and Charley. And I can get up and go whenever I choose and don’t have to worry about vets and kennels, etc. I can also change my mind at a later date. For now, I choose to remain pet-less.
It takes half your life before you discover life is a do-it-yourself project. ~ Napoleon Hill
My response to the above quote: For some of us, it takes more than half.
My life is a series of projects but I don’t know that I have ever thought of my life as one of them. I don’t know why not as I can make a project of almost anything–mowing the lawn (front yard today, back yard tomorrow), painting the bathroom (This one has been in the planning stages for about four years now.), running errands (I have a specific order so that I make the best use of my time, gas, etc.) You name it, I can usually create a project around it.
Sometimes my self-confidence is greater than my ability, especially artistic projects such as the one pictured here, which is now underway. I’m reading a book called The Scent of God: A Memoir by Beryl Singleton Bissell. As I was reading today, I highlighted the following passage: …I possessed an outsized sense of my abilities and set to work with gusto. There is so much me in that statement that I laughed aloud when I read it. I start out with grand ideas of a masterpiece and usually end up with “adequate.“ I seldom, if ever, meet my own expectations, but I do get compliments, and even praise, from others.
Of course many of my projects are for church and church folks are usually nice, and grateful for my effort. Knowing that maybe they are just being nice helps me to keep a perspective, but it doesn’t slow me down at all because I must create and play with color. It’s intrinsic; it’s who I am. I don’t have a choice.
What about the project that is my life? I’m not a list maker. Well, I make mental lists all the time but I seldom write them out. Maybe I should. I don’t know. I think making lists, mental or otherwise, is a way of stating goals. Over the years I’ve made and achieved numerous goals. I have to admit to you and to myself, though, that my retirement has not always been goal-specific. In other words, I haven’t made a project of it. I consider that a mistake and I’m working to change it. Take heed, you readers who are younger than I. That would be most of you. 
This paragraph would go under the heading of “thinking out loud.” Thank you for indulging me. I think it has taken me longer than average to get beyond the fairy tale aspect of my marriage and life in general. I always thought of my ex as “the love of my life.” That sounds absurd to me now. It’s as if I made him my project. Does that make sense? That must have put a hell of a lot of pressure on him and our marriage. My goal/project should have been our goal–our marriage, our life together. When it turned out that we no longer had that common goal, it would have been nice if we could have talked about it. We didn’t. It is done. Now I must remind myself that I would not have learned all these lessons by staying in what had become a stagnant relationship.
Note: My blogger friend Kim has a list of her favorite books on her blog. That’s where I found the memoir I mentioned above. Check it out.
Taking a new step, uttering a new word, is what people fear most. ~ Benjamin Disraeli
Yesterday I drove to Daughter # 1′s house to pick up my granddaughter. We had a dinner date. I got there a little early so I got out of the car and walked around the yard snapping photos while I waited for her to get home. My daughter and her family have a most marvelous yard–a Garden of Eden, if you will. Except there’s no apple tree as far as I know. Of course that apple notion we’ve been fed all these years is probably wrong. I read somewhere that it would more likely have been a pomegranate in that part of the world. I tell you all this in order to say that the photos in this post were all taken in the aforementioned beautiful yard. There are all manner of little treasures peeking through the leaves.
As I drove to get my granddaughter A, I passed a man walking up the sidewalk. He walked at a snail’s pace because he required a walker with wheels. Needless to say the going was slow. I remember thinking how much I admired his grit–the busy street must have been a bit daunting.
As I was retracing my route and heading toward our favorite restaurant, I saw the same man still walking. I said to A, “Holy cow! Look at that guy! He’s walked a couple of miles or more since I last saw him.” 
Then we talked about what might have incapacitated him– a stroke, a heart attack ???–and how brave he was to keep going, determined to get strong again.
I have thought about that gentleman a great deal in the past twenty-four hours. He reminds me of the many wounded people (including me) who are trying, one step at a time, to heal. Some wounds are physical, some are emotional. All are serious to the one who is suffering. Some heal quickly, some not so much; all of us heal a step at a time, a day at a time.
Sometimes my little cell phone camera seems to have a mind of its own. I inadvertently took this picture of my foot stepping firmly toward the next colorful exhibit that caught my eye. I started to delete it and thought better of it. I shall keep it to remind me to keep on stepping. It also reminds me of how far I’ve come since D-Day. (I read a number of blogs by people, male and female, who are recovering from separation, divorce, infidelity, etc., and many of them refer to it as D-Day. It’s appropriate, I guess.) We’re all recovering at different rates, but the good news is that we’re all recovering. Each day gets a little better.
I don’t need … things to make me happy. A nice quiet place to unwind at the end of the day, beautiful views, a few good friends. What else is there? ~ Nicholas Sparks
I chuckle as I look at the beginnings of this post. First the title approached me all on its own. Days later I found this quote which seemed to support the title. Then I remembered Dr. Seuss’s “things” and I couldn’t resist bringing them along. I think they lend levity to what could be a serious, even heavy, topic. My love of Dr. Seuss grows day by day. Who else has consistently encouraged children (and their parents) to make up a word that sounds right when you can’t think of an appropriate, existing word? Love it!
Back to the topic at hand. For several months I have been thinking about my years of accumulating “things.” Why did I ever imagine I needed so much stuff? And why do I keep things I no longer use? (I can honestly say I’m making progress on this one.) When I moved here I was aware that one person didn’t need this much space but I needed room for my stuff.
I spent a great deal of time alone when we lived in the mountains and I often got very lonely. I would go shopping just to get out of the house. And the house was so big that I could always find a new rug, a piece of pottery, a painting to enhance its appearance. I occasionally bought clothing, but more often it was something for my showplace of a house. It’s as if I were trying to fix a gaping wound with a band-aid. (I got that last sentence from my oldest daughter.) There was a hole in my soul and I was trying to fill it in all the wrong ways.
Now as I sift through my belongings I feel sad, embarrassed, greedy, overwhelmed, selfish. I could go on with the adjectives without even consulting a thesaurus. Suffice to say I don’t like who I was, but I’m now making positive changes. I cringe when I think about those years and realize I could have been supporting several third world families on the money I spent on stuff. What was I thinking?!
So here I sit in a house that is less than half the size of the previous one, yet it’s still big enough for a family of five or six. (Talk about a carbon footprint! Egad!) I’m trying to bide my time until the real estate market rebounds so I can sell this place and find a more appropriate home. I try not to think about the fact that the money could have been better invested since I truly believe I did the best I could under the circumstances and given the emotional trauma and pain I was in at the time.
I think I’m finally on the right track. I consider very carefully before I buy anything. I make better choices than I once did. I don’t buy things for the house. The house and I are becoming happier as the clutter decreases. They say that it sometimes takes a jolt, a shock, even a tragedy to force a needed change on some people, so I guess they’re talking about me. As I inch toward the person I really am, the person I’m meant to be, the trauma and pain continue to diminish. One day, maybe I’ll be able to look back and thank D for this divorce.
Writing this caused me to cry a little, but not too much. And now I feel better. If you’ve read this far, thank you.
All the Wrong Reasons ~ Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne
Trouble blew in on a cold dark wind
It came without no warning
And that big ol’ house went up for sale
They were on the road by morning
Oh, the days went slow, into the changing season
Oh, out in the cold, for all the wrong reasons
Well she grew up hard and she grew up fast
In the age of television
And she made a vow to have it all
It became her new religion
Oh, down in her soul, it was an act of treason
Oh, down they go for all the wrong reasons
Where the sky begins the horizon ends
Despite the best intentions
And a big ol’ man goes up for sale
He becomes his own invention
Oh, the days go slow into the changing season
Oh, bought and sold, for all the wrong reasons
Oh, down they go for all the wrong reasons
This song has taken up residence in my brain. Not just the tune, but the words as well. Some singer/songwriter poems stand alone. Bob Dylan’s and Leonard Cohen’s work, for example. Those guys are true poets in my opinion. This one by Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne needs to be sung. With the music, the Oh becomes Oh, oh, oh, oh. But even when I quadruple the word, reading it doesn’t strike the same chord (no pun intended) as when TP sings it. I want to share it with you to find out if others feel the same way. Click here to listen.
I’ve tried for days to figure out what I’m supposed to learn here, if anything. It has caused me to reflect in a way that I wouldn’t have, had my daughter not given me the CD for Christmas. I wonder how much of what we do when we’re young do we do with intention and logic and an eye to the greater good. It’s not that I think I had sinister motives ever; it’s just that I wasn’t mature/experienced enough to understand the far-reaching consequences of my decisions. I think the same is true of most people; and in particular, I give that bit of grace to D, my ex-husband.
Hope your day is simply joyful.
Card by Recycled Paper Greetings.
Hip hip hooray to my grandchildren for decorating my tree. O TANNENBAUM (Click for a musical and visual treat.)
