Crazy as a Loom

Monday, October 24, 2022


Ah, life.   Even if we live to be quite old, will we ever really understand it?

Here for a moment, or more. A lifetime, whatever that might be, different for everyone.

I swear it's the luck of the draw, and I am fond of saying that I just play the hand that I am dealt.
For some time now, the cards have sucked.

It's easy to think, sometimes, when life is cruising along without any bumps in the road, that it will always be like that.
And it is.   Until it isn't.

"I always expected to get old, I am just surprised at how quickly it happened".

My A-fib experience started in January 2021, an isolated event.  Then a month later, another, and then another, and eventually it became status quo.   Lots of meds, two ablations, neither of which worked, 

In the middle of this, unexpected death, that stopped me in my tracks.

Now, tomorrow, I am having a cardioversion.  On a new med, the hope is that the cardioversion will put me in a normal sinus rhythm, and that I will stay there.

I have not been able to do anything very physical in so long.  I can't even really walk my dogs.   It has been life changing.

It really puts into perspective all the things that I thought I knew.

Yesterday, I realized that loneliness after losing my husband is not my problem.  I have always been comfortable with solitude, and to be quite honest, in the last few years, my husband pretty much lived in his own head, and didn't have much to say about anything.  So it's not being lonely that confronts me now.  It's living alone.  Not anticipating anyone else's movements in my life.  
I noticed it while sitting on the porch reading a book.  I heard something, stopped, and realized that I was subconsciously expecting him to return at his usual time.   I had not given that up.
And of course, he was not returning at all.
Then I understood it quite clearly.   
I have not ever lived alone, in my whole life..........even divorced, I always had children living with me, and for a long time, my mother.  There was always someone else in the house, another presence, another voice, someone else to consider.
Now, there's no one but me, and two dogs and a cat.

It not loneliness that afflicts me.  It's change.  Major change.  

Then there are those times, when I just miss him.  Someone said once, when speaking of her recently deceased partner.   "He was a pain in the ass, but he was MY pain in the ass."
Ah, how true.

As you get older, you are gobsmacked by the losses.   Parents, friends, people that you had in your life, who made up the fabric of your life, they are gone. 
Sometimes I think that the simpler I keep my life, the more sense it makes.

Every day I save myself by making a list.  Things that I need to do today, this week, sometime.  And I cross them off, and sometimes, start a new list.  It keeps me focused on what's in front of me.  I'm a strong believer that in the worst of times, you do what is right in front of you.  One day at a time, one step at a time.  
I have a big house, and a huge yard, and there are things to be done before winter arrives.  
I have two new Louet looms, to be made operational, and warped.  
I have a weaving guild show coming up.

I make soup.  I bake and give half of it away.  I downsize, frequently.  I have gotten rid of so much stuff that I do not need.  Re-homed it.

I have to admit, I don't go out much.  The grocery store.  The pet store. Big day was a trip to Staples. Thankfully, friends stop in.  Sometimes, they get me out of the house.  

 I'm still not sure that I believe this really happened, but there it goes....the AVL, on its way to Pittsburgh.

And here is the studio, with the new Louet David III in its place, everything looking mighty clean and downsized.

I really changed things up and moved my older Louet loom into the living room.

This is where the dogs like to be when it's their nap time, and the stove is here, so in the winter it's the coziest place to be.   
I love this room, so it feels good to be in here with them.

I also find that if the loom is in here, I sometimes weave for awhile in the evening, when I normally wouldn't.

Can I say right here, that weaving is not only my passion, it has saved me many a time.  It is always a source of comfort.  It is truly my happy place.

Then there's always comfort food.   Even though my appetite has been somewhat wonky the last few months, I find myself leaning towards maybe not things I would normally eat.

This is Trader Joe's pumpkin bread, made into French Toast.

It was delicious.

I'm doing the best I can, and if this helps, who can argue??????

Praying I have good news after this "electrifying" event tomorrow!!!



Valerie said...

sending all good thoughts for your procedure tomorrow!
I love the red and gold web on the loom.

Peg Cherre said...

Geez! You know that old saying - never hit a (wo)man when (s)he's down; kick (her)him, it's easier. Life has been like that for you. Sending virtual hugs, and a lot of good vibes for success on your cardioversion, whatever that is. May your doctors be kind and skillful, and may you get some healthful benefits.

I love the 'less is more' version of your sweet home.

And yes, learning to live totally alone, with just animals, takes adjustment, but that's actually an easy one. The solitude becomes comforting, even while the missing goes on.

coffeeontheporchwithme said...

Oh, I do so hope that this new approach helps you and you can resume a more normal life. I, too, found out how quickly your assumption of life going on as it always does can change! I think your loom in your living room looks perfect and cozy and if the pets are there, too, all the better! -Jenn

thecrazysheeplady said...

Pumpkin bread french toast?!? I think you're going to be fine...but will be good to hear that from you just to be sure. Good thoughts headed your way on many levels.

Anonymous said...

My mom is going through this as well. Two unsuccessful ablation in the midst of the worst of the pandemic. A pacemaker was the last answer for her. Fingers crossed today's procedure is a success and you regain your energy. I am so thankful for your dogs and the company that they give you.

Daryl said...

I can so identify with this post - well the part about being alone .. Ray died almost a year ago and every day i talk to him and i say how i miss him even at his most annoying - i have never in my life and i am approaching 75 lived on my own for so long .. back when i had my own apartment i spent 99% of the time at his place .. i think maybe in the 2 yrs i had my own apartment i lived there a total of a month - 30 days give or take and definitely not consecutively .. and in all the time we were together i think the longest we didnt talk was when he was working on a film in Iowa and then we spoke at least every other night.. so while i am not lonely not with two cats and a dog but its an adjustment being on my own ... so i am sending you hugs whether you need one or not

Rita said...

Huge life adjustment being alone. You have the loveliest spot for it and good fur-company, but it is a huge change. You are doing well. I wish you the very best with your procedure. *love and hugs*

Karen said...

I'll be waiting for your good news!!.... love your living spaces, Hilary - your touches are hearthwarming. I spent a great deal of my days alone, too... with my dogs afoot... my part time editor's job is done in my home office and the farm chores outside are solitary too. And I love it. When the family crowds in I appreciate them more, too.

Anonymous said...

Just wanted to say, I’ve been following your blog for…goodness I don’t know how long. Probably 8 years? I know it was before my oldest was born and she’s 8. I don’t know that I’ve ever commented but I wanted to let you know your posts are always a bright spot in my day. You’re always so positive even through all the pain and obstacles you face. Thanks for being such an encouragement.

Sharon said...

Someone at the guild sale today said to me that she saw that I knew Sara Lamb. I said, yes I do but how do you know know that? From her blog she said - Mentioned you in a post. We fossils have been posting past our live posts. Our posts live on. So tonight I went through my blog roll and sure enough. Most of the blogs I've known have expired. I'm glad to see you're still hanging in there, old friend. It comforts me that this fossil isn't alone, just a little lonely now and then.

Scheppacher said...

Autumn I really like;)

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