What Time is it?

The other night I woke to howling winds. Howling forcefully, making me wonder whether we would end up in the wizard’s kingdom. But it was not the wind that woke me, it was the fact that my bed reset itself to flat. It is the kind of bed that allows me to raise the head of the bed, or where the knees go, contorting my body to its most comfortable position. I keep the head slightly inclined, and find I sleep best this way.

But – it reset! Say what?! Oh – my clock also says it’s 12:00, and I know that isn’t correct, because last I looked it was after 1:00. Power blip. We had a power blip. Now my clock says it’s three hours later than it is. And. I. Can’t. Figure. Out. How. To. Set. It.

I remember having trouble setting it when I first got it, but I managed and somehow it’s been showing me the right time. Now when I awaken overnight – because I’m old and that happens more often now – I have to wonder what time it is, and mentally deduct three hours from what I’m being shown. That can be difficult at 2:30 in the morning, because my brain shuts down and doesn’t really like being disturbed.

Today, my daughter has said we will work together to set that clock so I won’t have to go around wondering what time it is. Because, there is enough to wonder about, these days, in this world. Like – what the heck is reality anyway?

I have been weaving. I have not been taking pictures of my weaving. Soon, I will do that, and I will share. Because I know you are very interested in what I’ve been weaving. Of course you are.

In the meantime, what time is it? Have we gotten through the inauguration yet? Did we make it without more mayhem and bloodshed? Because. I’ve had enough. Really. I want my most serious problem to be what time is it.

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Is This America?

I watched Wednesday’s news reports with jaw dropped open, stunned at what this country has become. I knew we had taken the low road, but this low? Really? What I saw were the very actions we, as a country, completely condemn when we see reports of them happening in other countries. And now, here we are – down to that very level.

I am baffled as to why there was not further protection of the Capitol building that day. As I understand it, the mayor of D.C. had requested National Guard presence – where were they? Oh, it says here that “the Pentagon prohibited the District’s guardsmen from receiving ammunition or riot gear, interacting with protesters unless necessary for self-defense, sharing equipment with local law enforcement, or using Guard surveillance and air assets without the the defense secretary’s explicit sign-off”. Ummmm.

Compare: National Guard presence at the Lincoln Memorial during the George Floyd protests and police only presence of January 6 at the Capitol: https://mashable.com/article/capitol-police-trump-riot-black-lives-matter-protest/

I give you a link because I cannot find images that I’m able to copy.

All of this approved by the man who is called the President of the United States. Today I have read some comments about how Trump was abused by his father, and how his father drummed into him to “never lose”. I have read this before, and I am sorry he had to go through that – yet, even that is not enough to allow me to consider any empathy, sympathy, or tolerance for the man. The very fact that our GOP Senate would not condemn him during the impeachment hearings, despite adequate evidence of wrong-doing, also contributed to what happened on Wednesday.

My mind is racing, my thoughts are jumbled, I am angry, I am out of tolerance, I see no reason to hold my tongue when disagreeing with supporters of this mad man. The gates have been opened, and I am ready to charge through them. To these supporters, I say: You have lived in your alternate reality for at least five years now, and it’s time for you to open your mind, your eyes, and your ears – to recognize that the excuses you have made, the lies you have tolerated, the horrid behaviors you have ignored, and face the reality, the real world.

Just get over it, would you? And join the rest of us in praying that there will indeed be a “peaceful transition of power” and not more violence, perhaps even bloodshed, on January 20.

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Happy New Year!

It’s a new year. New hope. New plans. New goals. New wishes.

I wish Covid would be done with us and would fade off into the sunset.

I wish people would be nice to one another and stop being stopped so reactive.

I wish our government would govern.

I wish I could renovate my old parts so they would do more for me instead of complaining when I try to do things. Back, I’m talking to you.

I’m thinking spring. I’m thinking I want to plant pretty things to grow and spread cheer. I’m wishing weeds away.

I read that red wine and cheese help fight cognitive decline. That’s a study that I’ll support! Yay for those of us who drink red wine and eat cheese!

There’s a lot of “I” in here. Seems a bit narcissistic, yet I can only speak for “I”.

I got my notice from Social Security about this year’s income yesterday – yes, I got a raise. Yes, they increased the cost of Medicare so that it absorbs most of that increase. Did the cost of living really only go up 1.3%? Why does it feel like it went up more when I go shopping?

As I weave my way through the days, I feel I have enough in this life. I think there are many of us that have enough, and too many that do not. I wish for you a new year with love, joy, and enough.

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Happy Holidays!

Christmas is rapidly approaching and the New Year is hot on its tail. I have been thinking I would make Christmas cards and send them out this year, but haven’t actually done anything about it, so I solved that problem by sending an e-card to those in my contact list. But that didn’t get my wishes for the season to any of you – so I have chosen a photo from last Christmas to use as my “card” for all of you.

Wishing each and every one of you a very Happy Holiday season, whatever holiday you might be celebrating. Wishing love, peace, happiness, and good health to all of you. Wishing for bridges to be built in the coming year, and our world to find its road to unity and moving forward. Wishing you all – enough.

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Pandemic Memories

The past couple of days Kathy of Lake Superior Spirit has raised the question about our memories of the this past year with the pandemic. As I began to try to answer her question this morning, I realized the number of words my answer would take would make a blog post. So here I am, with the warning that none of this will likely contain the spirit of Christmas, but will contain the hope for new beginnings with the new year.

I can’t think of a memory that calls to me – other than my complete frustration with the deniers, the ones that have caused the virus to continue its virulent spread throughout the world – those who claim individual rights so they needn’t wear masks, those who believe the virus is no worse than the standard flu viruses that visit each year. The memory of how the lack of trust in anything and everything has grown, so that we no longer know what or who to believe. The fact that a huge contributor to the lack of trust, a supporter of the deniers, is the man who resides in the White House. I am astonished on a daily basis how many people still believe in this man, believe his fabrications, who see him having parties or holding meetings where the attendees are not masked, and disbelieve the reports of the numbers afflicted or dead because of this virus.

Many of these people are intelligent with reasonable educations but still believe the most incredible (to me) things – and to quote from a post by another blogger I follow, Leenadll quoting a person she knows, they come along the lines of this:

“There’s no ICU bed shortage! That’s a total lie to scare people into susmission! I have lots of friends who are nurses and they’re not working. You know what nurses are doing at hospitals? They’re not treating patients… they’re all making TikToc videos all day!”


“The covid test [I don’t recall which one] has a 97% false positive rate.” ORly?!?


“ALL diseases can be cured by adopting a healthy lifestyle! There’s no reason to take medications, especially not antibiotics or vaccines!”

People who believe these kinds of things scare me, because I believe what the scientists like Dr. Fauci say, and I fear we will never rid ourselves of this virus if enough people don’t follow the recommended guidelines for prevention, but instead skip and hop along their merry way, endangering everyone they come in contact with.

How did we get here? How did we get to the point where we believe the media is completely untrustworthy, a man with no redeeming features that I can see is supported and believed, where a virus can make its way into our country and create the absolute chaos that we are now experiencing?

What have we become?

I end this rant with the hope that the new year will truly be a new beginning. That we can, as a country, as a society, find our way back to compassion and caring, tolerance and trusting, that our government can find its way back to governing, for the good of the people and the country rather than the good of the party. Where we can meet, and speak, and allow our differences to exist without offense. Where once again, we can meet for lunch or a glass of wine without fear of contracting what could be our death sentence.

I hope. I wish.

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Some Thoughts

It’s been quite awhile since I’ve visited with you all, but this morning I think I might share some thoughts. Random and nonsensical they may be, I’m in the mood to share.

I’ve been trying to keep my internet shopping down to only what’s “necessary”. My problem is defining “necessary”. The good news is that I’m helping to assure that the UPS driver continues to be employed. Now all I have to do is make absolutely sure that the correct shipping address is on my orders, and I think that might need double-checking. I received notice today that one of my orders is being delivered to my old address. Thank goodness for kind neighbors/friends who will forward things, perhaps while muttering about my inefficiencies under their breath – or aloud, since I’m not around to hear.

I have managed to create my own “nest” at my daughter’s house. Correction – the home of my daughter and her husband. I chuckle to myself, because each of the three of us seem to have our little nesting spots, surrounded by everything we might need at any time that we’re sitting in our nesting spots. The cats kind of go wherever it is they please, and that often involves a trip across my lap because my nesting spot is very near the cat door that takes them out into their catio, which is on our patio.

I have been weaving. If I can figure out how to insert photos here, perhaps I’ll share some samples of what I’ve been doing. Let’s give it a try.

These have kept me busy the past couple of months. As you can see, I sometimes have a helper, and when it’s the big boy shown it can be a problem. The wrap on the loom is 18″ wide – just the right size for him.

This is a house of cats. They had three, and when I moved in with my two – which formerly belonged to my daughter anyway – that brought the population to five. Along with my dog, of course – Shasta is doing fine with the girl cats (two), but is a bit growly with the boy cats. There must be some kind of scent the boys give off that she finds offending. I wish I could delve into the psyche of animals sometimes.

I am looking forward to having my son with us for Christmas. Yes, yes, I know about the “do not travel” warnings, and I believe in them, just as I believe in wearing my mask when I go out in public. He is quarantining before he leaves, and will be driving up, so no public transport will be involved. I am hoping the weather will cooperate. His home area has a lot of Covid, our county does not, so the quarantine/isolation routine is necessary. He teaches, but his district is on all remote teaching.

I hope we, as a society, learn something from this Covid pandemic. Some of us are resisting it, I know, and I regret that happening, because we need to learn from our history, and we’ve not been very good at that over the decades.

Avoiding politics here, but I must say I am very happy the election is over, and will be even happier when the inauguration is over, because then maybe the election will really be over. Now all that we need is to recognize that together we can be a force for good – divided we will accomplish nothing.

It’s winter. Most of our days are gray, but I am grateful that this part of the state gets far less snow than my old part of the state. It is beautiful when it first falls, and watching those snowflakes fall from the sky is relaxing – but the shoveling and the slipping and sliding are not my favorite things to do, so I shall not regret missing it. I miss my friends, but we have efficient methods of communication, which helps. And I can visit them again come spring.

Wishing you all happy holidays and safe and sane lives – in the event I do not post again before the holidays. It’s hard to say when the words might want to be transferred to virtual paper again.

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What a Month it’s Been

Finally, today I have felt like reading a few blogs, and even commenting on a couple of them. There’s a long way to go before I feel like me again, but that’s a start.

Why? You ask why? Well, let me share my adventure with you. Approaching mid-October, I knew I didn’t feel well, but apparently I had no clue as to how unwell I was. It wasn’t until I started sending my kids texts that were garbledy-gook that my daughter raised the alarm, calling neighbors, calling the ambulance, which came and took me to the hospital. Good thing. I had pneumonia in the right lung – unusual they said – and was not getting the oxygen I needed, hence the nonsensical texts.

Kathryn drove down the next day, and stayed with me for the week I spent in the hospital, then packed up many of my things and drove me to her house in the north of Oregon. I am ensconced there now – for the winter at least, maybe permanently. That remains to be decided.

I feel more secure here. This whole episode, the idea that I could get so sick and not know it – was horrifying. Frightening. Had she not called in the troops when she did, the lack of oxygen could have killed me – and I’m not ready to go.

So now the journey of regaining my strength has begun, and each day I see a wee bit of improvement. I have my space, my furry kids plus their furry kids, my looms, my life. What more could I want? I have my adult kids, who care enough to intervene.

I have enough.

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Check this one out, please

I don’t know how to reblog in this new editor, but Barb Taub’s post today says what I’ve been thinking and feeling this morning: https://barbtaub.com/2020/10/06/two-groups-who-dont-have-to-worry-about-covid-potus-coronavirus-2020/comment-page-1/#comment-240462

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Scrambled Words

Hmm, it looks like I have been “blessed” with the new block editor. We shall see how this goes.

A couple of days ago, I had words racing around my brain, stringing themselves into sentences, sometimes paragraphs, begging to be released onto digital paper. I played with them, silently, planning for heeding their pleas tomorrow. The eternal tomorrow. Which did not come. Or at least did not come for those strings of words.

Tonight, however, sitting in front of my fireplace, electric though it may be, with a glass of wine and darkness around me, the words have pushed and prodded and begged and I have decided to release them. Whether they form coherent, meaningful sentences remains to be seen.

As long as I can remember, I have always wanted in my dream home two things – a fireplace and a bay window. In this home I have my morning room, which is kind of a bay window in that it is curved and has a wall of windows. It works for me. But when we had this home put together, my husband and I opted for larger, extra windows – whoops! No place for a fireplace. Recently, I got an electric fireplace insert, set in in a space in an entertainment center below my TV, created a surround of a sort, purchased a little sound effects box to create the illusion of a crackling fire, and I am happy. Dreams fulfilled.

Okay, pretend this is a photo of my fireplace, which I want to include but have not yet figured out how to with this new block editor. Oh wait, maybe I did it!

I wonder why it is that I have a queen size bed, yet I seem to end up with a space smaller than a twin bed for my body to fit into. I have bedmates. My old girl Shasta, who is a yellow lab, and who seems to think sleeping horizontally on the bed is the best way. Then there is Nong Saoi, the cat from Thailand gifted me by my daughter, who believes the crook of my legs is her space. I should probably be glad that Queso, the cat from Korea also blessed to my by my daughter, keeps his distance, and fears too much contact with humans. We talk, Queso and I, but he tells me there was this experience in his past life that makes him distrust humans, and while I will be allowed a few pets when I serve him his wet food dinner, other contact is prohibited. Therefore, he does not care to share my bed. And while I regret that, I think also that I should be grateful because that is one less reason to reduce the space I am allowed.

Don’t get me wrong – I love my furry girls. In this time of Covid, when spending time with my adult children has been put on hold, and mingling with my neighbors and friends is infrequent, it would be very lonely without them. But somewhere along the line, I allowed them to become the bosses, and I their servant. My kids laugh, because my furry kids get away with so much more than they did when they were still home. Part of getting older, living alone, and being known in the neighborhood as eccentric. That statement is probably an exaggeration – while I am working on becoming the eccentric old lady of the neighborhood – the one that takes Jenny Jones’ (Joseph?)* words to heart, I have not yet refined it. The day will come, however, when I walk down the street with my cane in hand, dragging it along the metal fence posts, making my own kind of music, wearing my purple dress and red hat, spending my Social Security on brandy – no, not brandy – wine being my preferred guilty pleasure. This is the woman I want to become.

Fall is here, in a much warmer form than is normal. Perhaps making up for our spring, which didn’t happen. Fall is my favorite season, and I welcome it, and I wish for it to last for much longer than is the norm. I love the light, the smell of the fall air, the feel of the air, the moderate, maybe coolish, temperatures, the colors. The sense of things winding down, relaxation the standard. I am trying to convince myself to do some of the normal fall cleanup jobs outside – inside will make it up the list in winter. Discipline is sorely needed in my life. I truly believe this time of life should be focused on those things which give me pleasure, but I think I’ve taken that to the extreme. There are still responsibilities that need tending to. My preference is to follow my whims, ignore the “musts” or “shoulds” – but that needs to be moderated, Methinks. Working on it.

Sometimes darkness is my friend. Sometimes silence is my friend. Sometimes sitting in the darkness of my family room, with only my firelight and some candle light (LED, I can not be trusted with real candles that need to be put out anymore), the snores of Shasta, and the warmth of Nong on my lap – these are the times I gain balance, restore my soul in preparation for reality when the skies grow light again, linger with memories or plans for tomorrow, allow myself to feel the pleasure of having lived these many years with the hope for at least 20 more of those years, and appreciate the fact that beneath the chaos of reality in this time, below the surface is calm, enchantment, peace. It’s like I imagine diving in the ocean would be – discoveries, a capsule of beauty. Out of that darkness tonight, these words lodged into my brain (caveat – i do not ever claim to be a poet or to have poetic tendencies, but I do love words):

“the man on top will be





the rest of us will be


crushed by the chaos

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Share Your World – 9/29/20

I haven’t done this for awhile, but this seems like a good morning to jump right in and play with Melanie and her friends.

Where do you feel most at home?  Please be more specific than “at home, doh” please. It could be a room in your home, a person, a location…  😝 😁 😇

There are a few places in my home I feel “most at home” – my morning room, my family room, my front deck. But when I read this question, I think outside my home – what other places make me feel most “at home” – most comfortable. That would have to be the ocean, oceanside, where I can hear, feel, smell, the ocean and see the sandy beaches. One of the Great Lakes might work too – they’re big enough to make ocean-type waves lapping on the shoreline. Such a comforting sound.

Would you rather ride a bike, ride a horse, or drive a car?  🐎  🚗 🚲 If we’re just talking druther, I’d say ride a horse – in reality, I’ve only ridden a horse a couple of times in my life, not enough to be comfortable. But oh I would so love to be able to ride. If I must answer with some sense of reality, then it would be drive a car. Riding a bike was good when I was young – now I’m not all that comfortable with my sense of balance.

What song would you sing on “Karoke Night” (if you were forced to do so)?  🎤 🎶 🎻🎷🎺🎸🎵🎹 Oh, you really do not want to be exposed to my “singing”. Really, you do not!  But if I could sing, the song I would love to be able to sing well would be “Hallelujah” – I love that song.

University or life experience, which do you feel best prepares you for life?  🎓 I think life experience best prepares us. University can fill our brains with knowledge useful in earning a living so you can have a life, but I believe lessons most often remembered are those we’ve gained through first-hand experience.

IT’S AN ATTITUDE – GRATITUDE!  (Participation Always Optional Of Course)

What are you grateful for? Getting up this morning to watch the sun come over the hills behind me, the golden glow of early morning. This time of the year, the sun comes up much further south in the eastern sky, so the shadows it casts are not the same as during other times of the year. I am grateful for fall and its colors, the feel of its air, the calmness the season seems to provide, most of the time. I am grateful for my furry kids, my not furry adult kids, my friends. My life.

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