It is Misty’s birthday this month and she is getting quite excited. Or so I convince myself. It’s strange how we anthropomorphise our canine friends.
Friends who were visiting this past week were asking how many dogs I had shared my life with. It is in fact eight. Even more interesting is that I have only been eight years in total without a doggy companion.
And they have all been special.
Yes – it is three weeks since I set myself the challenge of making a blog entry every day. A good discipline. Good for the brain and good for the soul. Just like dancing.
Good news from my check up at the doctor’s today: the glucose test was clear, so no pre-diabetic problems. Unfortunately my blood pressure is still a work in progress. I still have a bp it is just too high. However, I did get permission to go to Dance Class as long as I paced myself. Dancing is a good workout for body, mind and spirit. But we really are suffering from the break we had over the summer whilst my ankle was healing. That is our excuse anyway.
Worst dance tonight was a sequence foxtrot.
Best dance was a waltz. Or rather it was the one where we got the most steps in the right order. It has got to get better.
What the littlest grandchildren like watching, and because it makes me smile.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icViP-RZDy4
This is to illustrate how a day slips away:
I have woken up a bit now, but intend to watch TV and then crawl to bed.
Maybe tomorrow will be more productive.
Tabor has been asking what the 3 weeks is about. If you remember, way back at the end of October I explained that I had been getting very lazy about making blog posts. It seemed as if there was nothing worth writing about any more. I went for a month at a time without attempting to blog. A friend suggested that a remedy, and a way of working out what I wanted to do with my blog, was to write something every day for 3 weeks. To write anything, no matter how trivial or trite-seeming……. that way I might write myself into a position where I understood what I was doing. I get there at the end of this week.
So………. what am I doing and why? Well – from the beginning I have written around 2550 posts. Lots of people mention the blog to me which reflects the fact that originally I thought of it as a way of building a community. This was when I was working in Parish Ministry. But of course things are different now. and although I cannot tell, I expect my stats have fallen off a great deal in my shilly-shallying this past year. However, this blog is not about trying to have as many readers as possible. It is more about leaving some kind of legacy for my descendants. Though I’m not sure if that is feasible.
The main point is that my daily doings and thoughts, ordinary though they may be, do give me material to share. And maybe it is helpful for me to do that. After all, as we get older it is good to make sense of life from long ago and life now. I would be interested to hear what you think.
Just past my bedtime and I realised I had not written anything for today. So much for my vow to write something everyday for 3 weeks. But I couldn’t go to sleep for thinking about the way I would be cross at myself for failing………. so here goes, the simple substance of a day.
A special package in the post containing next year’s edition of Sacred Space, together with a new Sheaffer fountain pen. Therein lies a story. I have several fountain pens which I have collected or acquired over the years. One is a slimline Sheaffer – ideal for writing the daily journal; another is a bog-standard Parker – used as a backup for the journal. The third was the standard Sheaffer which I used with violet ink cartridges – it was for my prayer journal……. a sort of holy colour. The original of this last pen simply wore out and refused to function, but as I had a number of packets of violet cartridges I had to replace the pen with a new one. Well that is what I tell myself…….. of course I have to admit that I really do love violet ink. Prayers somehow seem easier with the right ink.
After that early excitement friends of nearly 50 years arrived to spend the day. We had a good time covering all the topics one is supposed to avoid, and also laughed over shared memories. So it was a very different kind of Day Off. Most enjoyable all the same.
By the way, does anyone else have special foibles attached to writing? Or is everyone addicted to their keyboard and screen?
The birthdayfest continues
By the way, the cupcakes are all gone – I wonder where?
We will remember – so that peace, love, justice, freedom and generosity will prevail.
No prizes for guessing which special birthday for HBTW. He had a lovely day with Son #4 and family coming for a sleepover – involving onesie’s and the campervan – amazingly cozy in the winter. Son #1 and family are coming tomorrow. Misty has thoroughly enjoyed herself too. Thankfully she has not worked out how to burst balloons. The cake and decorations were courtesy of friends who were staying till this morning. I think it is the first time Himself has ever had a banner marking the event. He had to try and add to the display of balloons and got all out of puff. Other friends are arriving within a couple of days so it has turned into an absolute birthday-fest.
Today has been a typical wet day, even for Dalamory. Friends have been visiting so much of the day has been spent nattering and crafting. I managed to get 13 squares crocheted – they are to be made into charity blankets. My visitor completed a jumper and a beanie hat and she is part way into a blanket. We chatted and sorted out the world and shared our joys and problems as we have been doing for nearly forty years.
The charity that the blankets go to sent me some wool to help out with the project. I enjoy seeing the squares grow, then there is the change of activity whilst I tidy and tag, then they are sewn together in a check pattern. Finally, I crochet a border around them. I have explained before how I pray for the places and people who will get some benefit from the items. But today I found myself thinking of my Granny – she was the one who originally taught me to crochet. I look at my hands and see hers, especially as they fly along the stiches, chain, double-chain, treble, and double round the corners……. All of life is connected – isn’t it amazing?
Retirement isn’t all about picnics and parties, though we have a fair share of those too.
