LIGHT DROPS TO THE BOTTOM

Susanne Strater pastel magic reminds me of Place-des-Arts

 

FOR MY NEXT HAIRCUT - LAYERS!

 

WINTER IS MY FAVOURITE SEASON

 January, February

You are my favourite months

When there is snow to ski and shoe

Snowballs linger in the trees

Clouds heap up like mountains

Pink bases in yellow skies

Warm clothes and soup and tea 

Hot chocolate with marshmallows too

UPCYCLING CHRISTMAS CRAFT

I hate that some snacks come in packages that are garbage forever, and although I try and buy them as little as possible, a future with no chips or candy bar seems impossible! I try and buy chocolate chips from the bulk food store, but some of the varieties are not available or a good alternative, so I end up with bags that a normal person would throw away. I wash them and save them to use them to separate items for food storage, and, on this occasion, to make a Christmas craft.

What I did learn is that the white inside shows the outside, so I wouldn't recommend chipits bags if I did it again, but the silver lining was very pretty. The trick is to cut a straight line, which I did not do that carefully, and sometimes regretted. But the end effect was very pleasing and I look forward to decorating with it next year! 

Glue the end and basket weave to a guide in the shape of your choosing. Trim.

 

GRATEFUL

I am grateful for hair on my head and face and body. I am grateful that my skin protects me and does not hurt or itch or ooze or bleed. I am grateful for an immune system that can fight infection and make antibodies from a vaccine to prevent disease. I am grateful that my head doesn’t hurt. I am grateful for eyes that blink. I am grateful for vision. I am grateful for my nose that I breathe through and smell with. I am grateful for smell. I am grateful for my ears that hear, and keep me from being dizzy. I am grateful for taste, and the teeth I have that allow me to chew, and a tongue that allows me to swallow. I am grateful for my voice and the ability to be able to communicate. I am grateful for breath without pain or difficulty. I am grateful for a steady heart beat that can speed up when I run, and slow down when I sleep. I am grateful to eat with appetite, without choking, and can enjoy my food and drink. I am grateful that I have no nausea. I am grateful that I digest painlessly, and that my bowels function. I am grateful for a body without cancer. I am grateful for a normal blood pressure. I am grateful for joints that work. I am grateful to be able to sit up straight and stand up and walk. I am grateful for a body that follows my brain’s commands. I am grateful for control of my limbs and bladder and bowels. I am grateful to be able to touch and feel touch. I am grateful for the pleasure to be able to stretch and stand and jump and take the stairs almost unconsciously. I am grateful to be able to sleep. I am grateful to be able to laugh. I am grateful to be able to sing. I am grateful to be able to think and love and work and play. I am grateful for the body I have, healthy and beautiful in its ordinary glorious normal function!

BOOK REPORT: ENCOUNTERS WITH ANIMALS

 I learned about the Durrell family like I have learned so many things over the last years: by watching tv. CBC GEM had the Masterpiece show called The Durrells, and it had just enough character, truth, insanity, and showcasing the natural beauty of Corfu. The family become even more interesting to me when I realized that two of the the children were authors, and the stories could be accessed in part by the stories written by zoologist youngest child Gerry. 

It still makes me laugh that I ended up on vacation in Crete because my friend wanted to go to Corfu, but didn't realize her mistake until we got there. I was only mildly disappointed, as I would have been happy to have gone to Corfu based on the show alone, but I think my friend was more interested in the vacation home view than the culture or history or mythology!

I don't remember where I picked up the second hand copy of Encounters with Animals, but I thought it might be a good book to read with Princess Pirate on summer vacation. We did read a few chapters together, and I am forever grateful for the stories of life in the Brazilian pantanal after dark, and the highlighted animals like the West African Kusimanse. The ideas of naturalism of that era, however, were as colonialist as the European's views on land rule, and it was difficult to read the seemingly insensitive and imperialistic collection of rare animals as though they were collectibles and not sentient beings.

Gerald Durrell was a great writer and a patient naturalist of another time. I appreciated the stories in spite of the time, but it was a little too far for my Princess Pirate. 

TIME WARP AND BLACK HOLES

 I am finding that my worlds are increasingly disparate, and that the one that I enjoy the most is the one that resembles the state that most of us aspire too; that is to say, independently wealthy. This is a problem, as I am not married to an earner, I do not retire with a pension, and I am not even as wealthy as I was before I divorced an increasing number of years ago. I should be worried. I am being bombarded by tweets and posts and documents from well meaning colleagues and friends as well as any news that I seek out with increasingly stressing news of the second wave and the virus' mutation and the limited units of vaccines and the moral dilemmas of a crumbling systems on every front, and yet I am at peace.

Is this the point of no return in burnout? Or am I healthy to enjoying the task at hand, sorting through the things at home that give me joy and taking on tasks that have little to no meaning but beauty? The decorating for Christmas was only seen by myself and my teen. Is my life futile? Is every act futile? Then why does it feel good to reorganize the decoration in anticipation of a more organized and streamlined advent next year? I have been abandoned by friends I love most as easily as discarded takeaway container. For them, living their lives is not much changed without me even if mine has radically suffered. I am trying to replace their attention with things? Is this good coping or bad? 

If I find the clearing of my social calendar a relief, with incremental advancing of a life lived so far behind that I thought I would die in a frantic race to keep up with the world around me (even though in many ways I am way off to the side of the rat race and most social calendars, not having even adopted family or social demand). I struggle to stay social as an act of survival, given my antisocial introverted tendencies that have been luxuries I have lived without for most of my adult life. 

Is this indulgent hedonism that allows me to finish the Martha December edition within 2 weeks of receiving it? Or is it a gift to make my way through my boxes to discover that I am never going to repair the dozens of colourful socks that we have worn through only to cut the usable bits into squares and rectangles and imagine they could become a quilt to pass on to the next generation? Finishing a book in the bath, listening to an audiobook while I do laundry and cook and clean to its completion of a task. Is this how a good life looks? Or is it indulgent? Naive? Entitled? Insensitive? I have felt in the past all of these conflicts, but somehow in this grey January with the brightness the lengthening days bring to it, I am content. To do the mundane at my pace and enjoy the pleasure of the moment is a gift that I am grateful for today, in part, because I know I am able to, when others are not.