A couple of years ago Nancy said, "Mother, you should start a blog." I can't remember why she said that, but it hit a chord in me. I've kept journals off and on over the years, but I tended to write only when I was blue, perplexed, confused, frustrated or in another negative state. Nancy's suggestion appealed to me because I wanted a chronicle of our life here in Paradise, because I could use a keyboard instead of a snail-paced pen, and because I could include photographs.
For the most part my blob has been pretty upbeat, I think, but I want to say there are down times, too. Like lately. Seems like everything I undertake turns into a mess. Quiche filling overflowed its pan, then ran all over the counter and floor as I carried it to the oven, where it dripped some more. That mess took half a day to clean up, including cleaning the oven, which needed cleaning anyway.
Another example is the wall hanging I've been working on for several weeks. It just doesn't flow. Just as I solve one problem, another one crops up and I walk away in disgust.
Today I tried to make jelly from some wild plum juice I'd stored in the freezer for about 25 years. It boiled over and cooked onto the stove. After that I was so flustered I didn't cook it long enough and it's more like syrup than jelly.
So there you have it. I'm in an all-thumbs period. Truthfully, it's all because I have not been mindful in my undertakings. "Be here now," was our mantra back in the seventies, but it's easier said than done.
On the up side, something interesting is going on with the poinsettia Barb rescued from the St. Lawrence Catholic Center's compost and gave to me. She and a couple of co-conspirators rescued at least a dozen more and has distributed them to good homes.
Months later, my share of the loot is producing some strange growths out of last winter's blooms.
Looks like it's growing a little cabbage, doesn't it? The next photo shows what it will become – a new branch.
Actually, the whole plant is covered with these offspring. Barb says that's because it's a Catholic poinsettia, but actually not many Catholic families reproduce at this rate any more.
If you have had an all-thumbs day, I hope yours ends on a happy note, too. Let's try to remember to be mindful as we go about our tasks.
For the most part my blob has been pretty upbeat, I think, but I want to say there are down times, too. Like lately. Seems like everything I undertake turns into a mess. Quiche filling overflowed its pan, then ran all over the counter and floor as I carried it to the oven, where it dripped some more. That mess took half a day to clean up, including cleaning the oven, which needed cleaning anyway.
Another example is the wall hanging I've been working on for several weeks. It just doesn't flow. Just as I solve one problem, another one crops up and I walk away in disgust.
Today I tried to make jelly from some wild plum juice I'd stored in the freezer for about 25 years. It boiled over and cooked onto the stove. After that I was so flustered I didn't cook it long enough and it's more like syrup than jelly.
So there you have it. I'm in an all-thumbs period. Truthfully, it's all because I have not been mindful in my undertakings. "Be here now," was our mantra back in the seventies, but it's easier said than done.
On the up side, something interesting is going on with the poinsettia Barb rescued from the St. Lawrence Catholic Center's compost and gave to me. She and a couple of co-conspirators rescued at least a dozen more and has distributed them to good homes.
Months later, my share of the loot is producing some strange growths out of last winter's blooms.
Looks like it's growing a little cabbage, doesn't it? The next photo shows what it will become – a new branch.
Actually, the whole plant is covered with these offspring. Barb says that's because it's a Catholic poinsettia, but actually not many Catholic families reproduce at this rate any more.
If you have had an all-thumbs day, I hope yours ends on a happy note, too. Let's try to remember to be mindful as we go about our tasks.
2 comments:
Oh, MOTHER! I'm sorry I didn't call you before you posted! It's true, I call you "Mother" but I also call you "Mamacita!" I remember that we talked about blogging because of your exceptional writing and photography skills! You were also feeling discouraged because of your inability to do your old hobbies due to your wrists! Now you get to do it all!
Love you!
As I recollect you call me Mother in person or on the phone, but you call me Mamacita when you write to me. I have at least three names for you, all of them affectionate.
You are right, now I could do it all if I weren't so lazy.
Post a Comment