Starting now

I cry in the hot tub.  Sometimes.

In the past, I have cried there, after losing my father, then my mother, then my dearest friend, then another friend,  sweet pups Eddie and Roy, and now the husband I have lived with for the last 23 years.

Maybe it's the steam.

While I sat there early this morning, I watched the birds landing on dead limbs in the pear trees across the driveway.   I had thought to trim those dead branches, and now I realize what  great landing spots they are for young birds.   There were 5 there on one branch today......having a little chat, they were busy being birds.  What a lovely thought.

I have decided that I am the keeper of this 1.2 acres of bird-dom..........and for whatever reason, that's a comforting thought.

Recently, I have spent hours on the screen porch, watching and listening to the birds. I have a family of black squirrels out there, wood chucks aplenty, rabbits, and an occasional fox.

Bill called the back yard that we have spent years clearing........"the park".   

It's still not entirely finished, but almost. Not a landscaper by any means, it has evolved, with only a little direction from me, and a whole lot of synchronicity.

I have also been reading a lot of books.

 

It's quiet.   I am realizing what a giant hole there is in my life.  No amount of cleaning or organizing or busy-ness can fill it.  Only time perhaps, will help the edges come together enough at least so the wind doesn't whistle through it at odd hours.

I am a work in progress, for now.

Cleaning.  Organizing.   When I  can get myself moving.

 DH was not a neat man.

Thank God for these two.......company 24/7......they move with my every movement.

I swear 

they are mentally tuned to me.

This is their bed.

They let me sleep with them.

 

Even now, I try to practice gratitude.   This house provides me with a sense of

safety, and belonging.

DH only planted tomatoes and cukes, and ironically enough, this is his best year ever.

Early morning walks with L and the dogs, to beat the heat.

I must admit my appetite is not what it was, and most of the time I eat because I know I should, or because I get tired of hearing my stomach rumble.  I know that at some point cooking and baking will be a good thing for me, just not yet.

As always, these three are the very best medicine.  Proof that life goes on, that there is joy everywhere, even when you're not looking for it.

When you get older, you realize that only love matters.  The love for family, friends,  fur babies.  What you have thought to be important, all your life, was really just fluff. 

 Only the love that you have given, and the love you have received moves the scale at all.

I still want to stick around, just to watch these three grow up.

As sad as I am, when they ran to me and threw their arms around my body and my legs, screaming "MIMI".........I knew that I would be ok with time.

Goodbye.

This post seems unreal to me, I'm not sure how much I have to give to it.

So I'll be brief.

A few days ago, I lost my best friend.

Even though he had been sick for a long while, and declining in health, it was a

shock.

It was unexpected. 

An unattended death, they called it.

My head has been spinning since.   Trying to absorb it, trying to accept it.

I'll be ok, because that's how I roll,   He wouldn't want it any other way.

I hope that he is no longer feeling weak, and tired, and sick.

I pray that he is free of all of that, and if he is, then I'm willing to put up with this ache, 

until we meet again.

A New Day

It is the strangest of times, it seems.  The world has appeared to have gone mad.

Sometimes, I feel that my body has, as well.

I never imagined being 75, and I certainly never expected to have my body, that has served me well all my life, go rogue on me.

But it has.

The ablation was done April 26th, my heart has been all over the place, since.   I guess from all accounts, that this unsettled situation is normal for a heart that is healing from being assaulted.   But still, three weeks of constant atrial fibrillation, with a heart rate of 145, left me as worn out as an old dish rag.  I had a cardioversion scheduled for June 7th, but once again, my heart has taken charge, and now I am in a normal sinus rhythm.  

Top this off with an acute case of bronchitis, and the inability to do anything very physical, without provoking another bout of AF, and you have a humble new me.

I surrender, for now.   No pulling, pushing, lifting, exertion.  None.

Lots of time on the screen porch with the dogs and a good book.

You can imagine, that they don't mind at all.   And every little while, they hear a squirrel or some other imagined interloper out in the yard, and they tear off through the dog door to investigate.

I guess that's a pretty good dog's life.

Willie approves of my second hand newly acquired porch furniture, to go with my old glider.

Last week, I had some company, and that's ALWAYS a good day, 

When they weren't playing croquet out on the lawn, they were entertaining Willie and Naya.

And there's always coloring to be done.

We ended the day with pizza at our fave restaurant, which they loved.

I am definitely enjoying the new space where the barn used to be.  I thought I would miss it, but I don't.

The birds seem to love it too,  and I love watching them, and listening to them.

 I have certainly had a lot of time to ponder my situation.  Getting old is what I'm doing, the alternative is not being able to enjoy any of this.  I have a beautiful family, amazing friends, a comfortable home, my sweet dogs, and so much more.   Once again, I lean into the gratitude part of it all.

I sit here in the morning, thankful for a hot cuppa tea, the NY Times crossword, two white dogs trying to get closer all the time, the quiet of this time of day, the sun just peeking over the trees.  So much, so much to be grateful for.

I am saddened, as we all are, for the hate and violence and senseless deaths in our world.

And all of it reminds me that I only have this day.  The gift of this day.  

It reminds me to find the joy all around me, 

I seem to have misplaced the need for beating myself up, needing to do more, 

feeling like I wasn't good enough if I wasn't productive every second of every day.

Instead I find myself standing very still under the linden tree, to watch the bevy of

birds splashing in the bird bath I made from a table frame, a garbage can lid, and some stones.

There's a new serenity washing over me,  and I find myself so very OK with it.

Keeping you in the loop

Once again, I have been slack about blogging.   I was waiting to have good news to tell you.

My ablation for atrial fib was on April 26th....and for a week, I felt AMAZING.  I felt like ME, after not feeling myself for several months.  It was such a relief.  I wanted to do a TON of things.

I had to restrain myself, and try to commit to easing into all those things that I haven't 

been able to do.

Then last Thursday I went to a book sale with a friend, mid morning.  I came back, and suddenly felt really tired.  I kicked back on the sofa, and at 11am in the morning, fell fast asleep.  I woke up an hour and a half later, and I knew that I was in Atrial fib......yes, again.

Now, 5 days later, I am still in A fib.  My follow up appointment with my cardiologist is

on Friday morning, and I am hoping he has a plan to get me back into a normal heartbeat, 

because to be honest, I am tired, short of breath, and a little miserable.

That being said, do not think for one minute that I am giving up, lying down,  or rolling over.

Not happening.  

I will get through this.  I will have another ablation.  This will get fixed, one way or the other.

And until then, I will do whatever I can do.  I will keep weaving, and planning and designing, and trying to live my life the best I can.

Getting old can be tough, that's for sure.  Giving up isn't really an alternative.

Onward.

Full disclosure.

Isn't that what it's about????  This blogging thing?  I have never shied away from being totally

honest about what is happening in my life, to a point, of course.  So why stop now?

I have been a lousy blogger of late, simply because I have felt so awful for about four months........between the atrial fib and the METOPROLOL (drug from hell), I have felt as bad as I have ever felt in my life.

Tired, short of breath on any exertion, wiped out, just plain horrific. Too many side effects from the medication,  A fib out of control if I didn't take it.

So there, That's the truth.  I feel bad whinging about it, knowing full well, that there are so many people on this planet with it so much worse.   I tell myself every day, that I have a home, and food, and family, and we're safe.  So much to be grateful for. 

 I get it, I do.

But I still feel like crap.

I have been weaving, sporadically,  trying to stay busy, and keep my mind occupied.  

Since January, I have been counting off the days until my ablation, the end of April, and I found that if I sat around and let my mind take over, it was a rabbit hole I did not want to go down.

At the same time, I couldn't go walking, or go outside and do much of anything that took any energy........so sitting at the loom, or the sewing machine, in short intervals, was the only thing productive that I could do.

I have been working through my stash of chenille, making clothing, too much perhaps, but there it is.

I've been playing with inlays and a boho look, actually amusing myself quite well.

It's amazing how much I appreciate a day without a frantic atrial fibrillation in my chest, even 

while feeling like I'm operating in slow motion.  It's all in the perspective.

But what I'm really focusing on is two weeks from now, when I go in for this procedure, and 

they find the source of this random electrical impulse, destroy it, and let me get on with my life.

I have no illusions.   I just had my 75th birthday, and I know that my years on earth are not

expansive.   But I don't think it's out of bounds to hope for some years of feeling good.  

Normal.  

Or at least normal for this age.

I'll take that.

I do find it amusing that not so long ago, my priorities were different.   

Even now, I can imagine myself thinking in years past, about what would make me happy.........a trip maybe,  something new, something different, a new LOOM perhaps!

And now, it's so much simpler.  

What will make me happy is feeling better than this.......not tired, not short of breath, not having a trip hammer in my chest.........ah, how point of views can change.

I just want normal.  That's enough.  How greedy we usually are.

It's so much easier to be happy in the space we're in, when we find out how fortunate we really are.

And sometimes, it does take some discomfort to make that crystal clear.

This, still, is my happy place.

Here I have all the serenity I have ever wanted.

I have the comfort that my soul has craved.

I have  contentment, joy.  Right here.

 

I couldn't ask for more than this.

Only another weaver might really understand.

It's simple really.   My life is better than ok.  I just have this unwanted guest, an electrical impulse 

hanging on for the ride, but unwelcome all the same.

It's got to go.  I don't have time for it anymore.

Hopefully next time I post, I can report that it has departed.   I am so ready.

Getting lax.

I must be guilty of slacking off, since I haven't blogged in a month.   I do apologize.

January and February were not my greatest achievements.   Between the atrial fib and the medication I'm taking to slow it down, I have felt pretty terrible most of the time.

Last week, I took my health into my own hands, after trying to talk to the cardiologist  about the meds without much success, I decided to listen to my own internal doctor.  (Please don't think I am advising anyone to do what I did.).  I cut my med in half, and committed to trying it for 3 days.  That was 10 days ago, and I'm still doing it.

I feel 85% better than I did before.

I am pretty convinced that I was over medicated.  

I now feel like I can make it through the next 6 weeks, waiting for the ablation.

Hallelujah.

In the meantime, I'm keeping busy.

I watch enough of the news to know what's going on, and I read the NY Times every morning, or at least some of it.

I guess it is safe to say that we are all appalled.

Finally something we can agree on.  

Wow.

This funky yarn that I dyed a long time ago, that was languishing in my cupboard, has turned  into the softest, lightest Möbius shawl I've ever made.

Sometimes I just never know how something is going to turn out.   I think I like that.  It's sometimes such a pleasant surprise.

Once again the AVL needed attention.  A couple of years ago, when the cable to the dobby arm broke, I replaced it with a cable from the hardware store.  It wasn't plastic coated, like the original, and it broke (again) after a few months, and then yet AGAIN....until I decided I needed to bite the bullet and order some of the plastic coated cable from AVL.

So yesterday with the help of a good friend, the project began.

Three hours later, we still didn't have it working, and I cried uncle.

This morning, we were back at it, and a couple of hours into it, it was once again a weaving machine.

This should last as long as I need it to.

Not usually a green lover, but it is the season, and they are pretty.

This is a cowl I made today from Lois' project on the Schacht.  Isn't it wild?

I love it.

I hope spring is around the corner, as well as peace in the world.  At least, I pray for some relief for Ukraine.  Those poor people.

It certainly does give one perspective, at least it does me.

My worries seem not so significant, and the hurdles I face, not so daunting.

I am grateful, beyond belief, for this safe haven that is my home.  For my family.  For my amazing friends.  For my dogs.  For my weaving studio and the passion therein.

For every day I get to do it again, I am thankful.

This song, by Kenny Chesney and Dave Matthews, keeps playing in my head.

(you can hear it on You Tube, it's awesome)

I'm Alive.

So damn easy to say that life's so hard
Everybody's got their share of battle scars
As for me, I'd like to thank my lucky stars
That I'm alive and well

It'd be easy to add up all the pain
And all the dreams you sat and watched go up in flames
Dwell on the wreckage as it smolders in the rain
But not me, I'm alive

And today, you know that's good enough for me
Breathing in and out's a blessing, can't you see?
Today's the first day of the rest of my life
And I'm alive and well
Yeah, I'm alive and well

Stars are dancing on the water here tonight
It's good for the soul when there's not a soul in sight
This boat has caught its wind and brought me back to life
Now I'm alive and well

And today, you know that's good enough for me
Breathing in and out's a blessing, can't you see?
Today's the first day of the rest of my life
Now I'm alive and well
Yeah, I'm alive and well

Here's a link:  I'm Alive

mentors and gratitude.

S

Still drawing/doodling, I  call it a relaxation technique......just now I'm using my ipad, and my Apple pencil, which I highly

recommend.  Such fun.

I

Even though I am not at my best of late, I seem to have found a way to be productive anyway,

and honestly, it helps me to get through this "big wait", without feeling like I'm wishing my

life away.

This one was woven by Lois, using a totally spontaneous kind of weaving, which she usually resists, but she's rocking it.

My oldest daughter, who hates me calling her the oldest.....but what should I call her??? 

my FIRST?   the first baby to arrive in my life???  

Anyway, she is also a nurse, with a couple more degrees than I pursued, and she is also

employed by the NYS Dept. of Corrections, like I was.

She has done very well, working very hard, getting one promotion after the other.

Several years ago, when it became obvious that she had far surpassed  my accomplishments in

the Dept, someone asked me if that didn't upset me, that she had done so much better than I had.

I was appalled at that, and couldn't even believe anyone would ask such a thing.

My answer was a resounding NO, I am so, so proud of her, and as most mothers would be,

I am thrilled that she has done so well.

Jealous???  omg, how ridiculous........don't we always want our children to better us?  

to be better? to be smarter?  to be more successful?  Happier even???

I sure do.

I feel like I've done my job, raising an accomplished young woman.

Over the years I have taught many, many people how to weave.  I wish, now, that I had kept track of them, but alas, I did not.

Several of them have become friends, but I have to say that ONE of them, has not

only become a dear, dear friend, but she has worked extremely hard, become 

an accomplished weaver that I am very, very proud of.

She probably knows more about it than I do, and lately, she has taught me a couple of improved ways of doing things.

Teach an old dog new tricks????????  

well, yes, apparently that's a thing.  LOL

In the exact same way I am happy for my daughter, I am happy for my friend.  I am honored

to have been the one to have introduced her to the world of weaving.  The more proficient 

she becomes, the happier I am.  I want her to be better, and to carry on long after I'm gone.

I feel like I've done my job, bringing a zealous weaver into the world.

She asked me the other day if maybe she was a little too obsessed with weaving.

Of course I answered, "nah......not too obsessed at all".

It still makes me incredibly happy, and I love all of it, even the tedious parts

of it.

Even as I'm weaving one warp, I am thinking of the next one, planning the next 

project, and the next.

What could be better.