Post Thanksgiving Relaxing

There are many good things that happen when family comes for the holidays. Laughter, good food, board games, leisurely walks,  lazin’ around, watching old TV shows. Nowhere to go, no schedule to keep.  Probably should wash up that pile of dishes in the sink.  Then again, they’ll be there in the morning, so why bother.  Do ’em later.

I’m not going to sort papers or clean out closets when company is here.  No, I’ll join them in front of the TV. It’s very comfortable in this chair, with the computer on my lap, the fire in the wood stove dying down.Stomach full of Thanksgiving left overs.  I’m almost too tired to get up and go to bed.

Yup, having family coming to visit can be very inspiring.

Yoga

A while back my daughter invited me to join her at a weekly yoga class.  I don’t like exercise classes.  I don’t think anyone wants to, or should, see me exercise.  Sweating, struggling, looking awkward and stupid and uncoordinated. Bad idea.  In fact, I don’t think people should exercise together. Exercise should be done alone. I go for my walks, two of them everyday.  Occasionally hubby comes along; rarely someone else accompanies me. Most times it’s me and the dog. And he doesn’t give a hoot what I wear or if I stumble or blow my nose or stop to smell a flower. Yes, exercise, if done correctly, is done alone.

So of course I went to yoga with my daughter.  I stood tall like a (windblown) tree and I dove like a (sick) swan.  I stretched like a dog. Except I’ve never yet seen any dog hold the down dog pose for more than a third of a second, so why was I holding it forever, that’s what I wanted to know.  Finally, as I ready to reach for my phone and dial 911 we got to pose that I could hold.  Savasana. Final relaxation.  Loved it. 

And as I lay finally relaxing I participated in an amazing exercise class event. I was in a room with 14 other women.  And there wasn’t a sound.  Fifteen women, absolutely quiet.  Now that was a pose.

Water

Two Christmases ago we visited our daughter and son in law in Mexico, for 8 days.  They lived in a nice house, in a good neighborhood, in large, safe city.  But we still couldn’t drink the water.  Or use the water to wash our fruits and vegetable or to brush our teeth.

It’s funny the things that stick in your mind.  That was for 8 days, two years ago.  But it really made an impression on me.  Nearly every morning when I brush my teeth I think about how nice it is to be able to turn on the faucet and use that water to pour over my toothbrush and rinse my mouth.

And I say a prayer of thanks for clean, running water.  It’s a miracle.

The Silent Female (Cat)

Women speak many more words a day than men do.

Miss Kitty is proof of that.  Of course, Miss Kitty is a cat.  But she speaks many more words than her brother, Marshall Dillon.  Walk into the room where Miss Kitty is and she’ll greet you with a cheery “meow”.  Except it sounds more like “merrrr ow”.  I think she’s Spanish.  She rolls her r’s even when there aren’t any r’s in the word.

Miss Kitty and her much quieter brother (he’s the strong, silent type) have been banned from our bedroom at night. We don’t want to wake up to a wet nose and furry body in our face.  But the other night Miss Kitty managed to stay all night.  She was on a chair in the room when I went to bed.  I warned her to be quiet reminding her that if she greeted hubby when he came to bed he’d toss her.  And she heeded my advice.  At least she didn’t greet hubby.  She only spoke up when I made a couple of trips to the bathroom.  But then I hadn’t told her not to speak to me.

She’s on our bed tonight.  Get away with it once and it’s now a tradition.

(Marshall Dillon on the top step; Miss Kitty on the step below him.)

Chasing Moon Shadows

I got my wish. The dreary, gray, drizzly, depressing weather left.  And in its place we got a cheery, clear, blue sky, mountain out, sunny day.  All that was missing was the heat. Someone forgot to send any heat with the sun.

But never mind that.  We had sun.  And before that,  when I stepped out my front door at 5:00 for my morning walk, with only 28 degrees out there, we had moon.

It wasn’t yet a full moon.  I’d say it was a  2/3 moon. It was wonderful.  Out here in the hinterlands, away from the city lights, even a 2/3 moon brightens up the world.

So I went for my walk, chasing my shadow down the road, then letting it chase me home.

Crafting

The other day a friend asked me if I do crafts.

Back in the day I did.   Back in the day sewing was my thing.  I made stuffed animals and quilts.  Sewed clothes for myself and for my daughters. Sewed purses and dolls and doll clothes. But that’s not all. Way back in the day I did macrame.  Toll painting. I embroidered and cross stitched.  I dabbled with photography. I took up calligraphy. Most recently I did a bit of scrapbooking.

But not anymore. I’ve given away most of my fabric and scrapbooking paper and embroidery thread.

The thing I can’t figure out is what happened to the time?  I used to sew and make things and I was raising children during all of that.  If the kids are grown and I’m not doing those crafts, shouldn’t I have all kinds of time? Time to read the books I want to read?  Time to blog regularly?  Somehow this isn’t working out the way I expected it to.

Maybe I should go macrame a plant hanger and find some of that lost time.