Saturday, July 23, 2022

So Much Time

 It was not, is is not ever the intent to stay away for so long.  Every day a topic wiggles its way into my head, the first sentence wrangles a way out of my fingertips and then . . .  

. . . as they say, "crickets." 

The G assistant machine alerts that my birthday is just around the corner which reminds me that I am needing to stop and think a little bit about simple things that used to come oh so effortlessly.  

Spelling, in particular.  

Part of my work entails writing notes.  The clinic managers prefer that I not use abbreviations so I spell out words while trying to be succinct for I can't spend forever writing notes.  The notes are not the work; they are work, but not THE work. 

Often it is the fast typing that causes typos but sometimes, every so often, I have to ponder just a tad at just how many i/s are in r e s p o n s i b i l i t y.  

While I've always enjoyed word and memory games I find myself glomming on to every opportunity to challenge myself in those arenas.  

Or to challenge myself, period. 

Any no offense to the G assistant, I am acutely aware of the date of my birth.  Now.  

Take gentle care.  






Saturday, May 21, 2022


When I started this post it was precisely the middle of the month (hence the title) and I was stuck with what to talk/write about.  Now, it is well beyond that and I'm a little less stuck, thanks to a shoehorn. ::smile::   

Some days ago my shoehorn broke.  The shoehorn was beloved, note because it was a shoehorn but more because it was gifted to me years ago by my mom. And it was hands down the most useful tool I own/ed. 

So, I went shopping (not physically, don't do that anymore--well, yet) but tap, tap, tap--looking over all the different options for shoehorns.  

And, wow are there a lot of options.  Part of me expected it because I looked for a thumb drive recently and whoa, talk about options. But part of me was surprised and I'll admit, a tad overwhelmed.  I went down a virtual rabbit hold of all manner of dressing aids; shoes, socks, and more.  

Good to know those things exist for if / when.  But for now, I had to stop and pick.  

I did.  I am now the owner of a replacement shoehorn. The choice even included a, "travel" sized version. I'm not sure my two new shoehorns will move to the beloved stage but for now, they are welcomed additions.  The non-travel sized one is used every single day, easily the most useful tool I own. 

Have a great rest of May! 

Sunday, April 24, 2022

Times Gone By

The first few years of my childhood, my mother dressed us in our finest for holidays; Easter being among the largest and the dressiest of those.  Our wardrobe was selected weeks before, set aside and then prepared the morning of, we were primped an preened until we glistened. 

Once perfection was achieved, a photo was snapped.  


Then we headed off to church and onward to our grandmother's for family time and some grand eats. 

While those rituals (or traditions) were suspended by the time I was ten (our lives had taken and decidedly drastic turn) they were revisited in my late teens, early adulthood.  My initial nuclear family was well fractured but there was still the extended; at least until my maternal grandmother died.  I am thankful to have had her with us for the earliest parts of my children's lives for their own experience a few of those grand gatherings and grand eats.  

Through the years the rituals / traditions took on different shapes; church waned, dressing up waned, toward a slow roll to present day; celebrations are not even on THE calendar day.  

Everyday we are able to come together is a celebration.  The one constant through the years has been grand eats no matter who's in the kitchen and a grand experience.  

I love hanging out with my son, the actor (and beyond) and my daughter, the chef (and beyond). 

Happy Spring!

Sunday, March 27, 2022

feliz aniversario


Tuesday, March 29th marks the 15th anniversary for this space.  Two days ago I had precisely what I wanted to post to commemorate the momentous occasion but I didn't write (or type) it down so, it is gone.  

Lost within the recesses of my mind.  

Oh, well.    In the spirit of, "winging it" I shall revert to the time honored blog tradition of listing stuff. 

1. Fifteen years ago my son and daughter were in their twenties.  

2. Fifteen years ago there were many blogging folks.  (I miss them, that.)   

3. Fifteen years ago I was not as active with my sketching.  

4.  I am overjoyed to have found the time and space (emotionally and physically) to become active with my sketching.  

5.  More often than not, I'm at a crossroads as to sketch or to write.  One day I shall begin the discipline of combining the two.  

6.  The sadness mentioned in the previous post continues; not only grief but conditions; the county, country, the world.  

7. I am tired. 

8. I shall persevere. 

9. F I F T E E N years.  I was going to link to the song, "Shout" but after listening (really listening) to all of the lyrics, (not just the hook) I decided not to.   

10. I will link to this song which has been  ribboning in and out of my consciousness for weeks now. 

11. So, how many more passwords will I have to create?

12. Hair.  Just because, it's always hair.  :-) 

13.  No, I haven't cut it. I might.  But, I don't think so. 

14. I'm counting the days until I (we) can get another cat (or two).  

15.  I am also counting the days until folks get tired of FB, IG, Tw*tter, Sn*pch*t, T*kT*k, and the dozen (?) or so social media posting, trolling platforms and come back to the tried, the true.... 

Be kind to each other.  


Sunday, February 27, 2022

This Day, That Day, One Day


Well, here we are at the end of February; cold, grey, and wet February.  

February has been motivationally and inspirationally challenging for me; thinking or acting with intent
toward anything creative has been like fighting a four alarm fire with the garden hose.  

I attended an event with co-workers on Friday. In conversation with one of them helped me see that I may approach February with a different mindset; that rather blanketing in the emotions of the losses, there may be ways to allow myself to celebrate the joys of those lifetimes. 

But, then again, that is is okay to have experience the grief, to acknowledge the loss and the void.  


Well, here we are at the end of February; cold, grey, and wet February.  

Saturday, January 29, 2022

January Twenty Twenty-two


And just like that it is the end of January, Twenty Twenty-two.   

My January consisted (in part) of leaving the tree up the entirety of the month; mostly due to not have a suitable storage tote in which to store the additional items purchased for the new tree.  This is the first tree since moving to this apartment February, 2019. And we hadn't had a tree at the old place since . . . 2014?

I think. 

Anyway, the tote has been purchased and the tree is coming down today.  

I came across an item in social media making a case for having a tree year 'round; decorating it for 

Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, Easter, Cinco de Mayo, the Fourth of July,  Halloween, Fall Harvest, 
Thanksgiving, and then, back to Christmas. 

In theory, it is an interesting idea.  I suppose there are some items that would work for multiple themes but I can't even begin to wrap my head around the storage challenges.  

THAT and there is a long time between the Fourth of July and Halloween equals a no for me. So, tree comes down, Christmas (and winter) decorations are going in the tote and down to the basement storage locker until December...something...2022.  

I hope you have had a peace filled, healthy, safe, and zen kind of January.  The last few days of my January are set to be filled with snow and below freezing temps.  

Pass the hot chocolate.  

Ta Ta for now.    

**artwork in response to art group prompt: "the months--January"  a friend offered some suggestions; A.A. Milne being one so, Kanga and little Roo.  The other, well, of course all the tossed trees during the first couple of weeks of January.  

Sunday, January 02, 2022

Christmas Just Ain't Christmas


This was going to be about Christmas. But now, Christmas 2021 is but a distant memory except to say I didn't have the kind of experience that many others seem to have had; mine was precisely as envisioned, as designed. The holiday had been scaled back a wee bit, year-by-year since my mother died in February of 2013. Well, truth be told, Christmas 2012 was pretty basic since my dad had died that previous September and by December, my mom was pretty sick with (what I didn't know then) was lung cancer.

The non-traveling, cocooning type of existence plays into my personality type. Granted, my daughter would rather have more people around but for me, for now, she and my son are plenty of company and plenty of energy.  

Which brings me to what brings me here today, on the second day of the new year; the year in review: 

I still have not cut my hair.  I still don't know what to do with it beyond washing, conditioning and braiding--but then, maybe that IS what is to be done with it.  

I'm still sketching. My daily practice has turned into a more every other or every few days practice; but I'm still creating and expanding skills.  

I do still have health and weight loss goals to achieve; these have been sort of rinse and repeat kind of endeavors but think I have settled on a different approach for the coming days, weeks, months, this year toward achieving different (more favorable) results. I shall keep you posted.  

My workplace is experiencing some transitions. I will continue to work remotely and I hope that the coming changes will ultimately equal success for myself as well as the company at large.  

My son, daughter, and I are still healthy; that is to say we have managed to avoid any positive Covid tests.  As they are out and about frequently (mostly for work) they test frequently.  All of us have had vaccines and boosters (mine is scheduled for next week). I've been hearing across with internet wires that folks believe that at some point, "we're all going to get it."  I hope that isn't the case. 

Two days in, I've managed to achieve each of my daily practices.  May this continue for the next . . .  three hundred and sixty-three.  Well, maybe the next five, at least.  

There is other news from this year; some even from last month but I'll save those stories for another time. Which is to say, I expect to come back here again and again and again. 

Dear Bloggers, please take gentle care.  Be safe, stay safe in as much as is possible to do so.  

Merry Christmas.  
Happy New Year. 

Cheers to 2022.