For the first time since Dale's cancer diagnosis in January, I've had the urge to do some seasonal decorating. Past Valentine's Day (one of my favorites!), past St. Patrick's Day, past Easter, past Dale's birthday.
This week I followed an urge. It was just a niggle, but I went with it to see where it led.
The summer decorations are up.
I placed all the old favorites
then was inspired to create a whimsical new bouquet using supplies from my stash.
It feels awfully good to have some of my creative spark return. I've missed expressing this side of my personality.
Some days are harder than others. Unfortunately, I've been having a string of harder days. Last week I had a morning that was tough enough that I got stuck. Mom and Dad asked what they could do to help, and all I could think was, "I just want to go for a long drive."
They said, "We can make that happen!"
The three of us drove north of Springfield on one of my favorite country drives. Something you should know about me: I'm a sucker for brown road signs. Those are the ones that point you to recreation areas and scenic views. I remembered that one of my favorite brown signs on this road points to Shotgun Creek Recreation Site.
This area is mostly designed for people to have thrill rides on their ATVs. But our adventure was up, up, up into the mountains to Cascade View.
For a slow five miles we drove through forest in all its states: lush with ferns, burnt from wildfire, logged, and regrowing. As we climbed, we even passed through a dense cloud. Finally, we made it up as high as we could go, and our reward was an incredible view point.
We marveled at how far we could see - at least eight ridges deep. I joked that even Bob Ross wouldn't dare to paint a mountain scene with that many ridges. I've been there before, but I never get tired of it. And the journey was all the more special because I got to share it with my parents.
Some days are harder than others... but this long drive and distance vision gave me the perspective I needed to press on.
* Note from Margaret:
It helped Dale and me, too! Time with Jodie is time well spent.
There are times when if I try to get things done too quickly I metaphorically (and literally) trip over my own feet, run into walls, stumble down the stairs, make mistakes, or just have to do the thing again.
That's what's going on today.
It's not a big deal. If I slow down a little, I can accomplish a lot more with a whole lot less frustration.
At the end of each year, I do a self-inventory where I evaluate the year I've just been through and set some hopes for the year ahead. This involves writing down my goals of the year as well as some guiding words, phrases and symbols.
Since I tend to judge myself harshly and take on blame that I haven't earned, I hope to morph that nasty habit. My overall hope is to encourage myself to soften that assessment by focusing on giving gentle care to myself and others.
Word of the Year: Nurture
Phrase of the Year: I am allowed - and encouraged - to be gentle to myself
Symbol of the Year:
This symbol is from a necklace I bought 30 ago when my own three kids were little. Then, it was a symbol of Dale and me growing our little family.
Now I think of it with us as grandparents, nurturing our granddaughters in this quieter phase of our lives.
When we nurture our grandkids, we are nurtured in return.
I appreciate how the linked arms/shoulders form a heart.
Your example helped me want to make a difference, too.
Edited to add my husband's thoughts:
I wasn't born yet to appreciate the greatness of Gandhi when he died. In so many ways, Carter was our generation's Gandhi: a simple man called to extraordinary leadership -- mostly by example, and as a peacemaker above all.
There's one for each of our three closest neighbors.
We gussied up the red platters with some greenery, silver ball ornaments, a statement ornament, and tied it up with a bow. To protect the fudge from the rain during delivery, we wrapped the platters in clear cellophane.
One of our neighbors doesn't celebrate Christmas, so the statement ornament was a winter berry bush rather than an elf.
In case our neighbors have some dietary restrictions that we don't know about, I made a little sign with a list of ingredients.
We also gave them a copy of the recipe that we used in case they like the fudge and want to make some for themselves.
We love the neighborhood we live in. It's fun and heartwarming to share holiday treats with our lovely neighbors this way.
Dale says that every new project deserves a new notebook. I'm starting a new project.
Today I played with school supplies and art supplies to gear up for it. Here's what I came up with:
I'd planned to purchase a fancy 3-ring binder as a reward for completing a task I really didn't want to do. But I went to three stores and couldn't find what I was looking for. The Back-to-School supplies are not all set out yet. I was sure a binder geared to a middle school girl was going to be ideal for me. But no such-a luck-a. I came home empty-handed.
Then I looked online. I found one with a great cover design, but $14 seemed like too much for a flimsy vinyl/plastic floppy binder.
So I slept on the decision.
This morning while putting something away in my Studio, I remembered that I have some used plain white binders stored away. I'm glad they weren't playing hide-n-seek. I was able to locate one right away.
Then I dug through (and reorganized) my bin of gift bags. I thought I might have one that could fill the bill of making good cover art. I picked one similar in size and shape to this red bag. But the one I used is covered in hearts, of course.
I pulled out a fresh pack of binder paper (because of course I have extra that I bought at a thrift store months ago). I also pulled out some writing implements.
Then I got crafty ... cutting the bag apart ... trimming it to size ... adding stickers to cover up holes where the gift bag handles were connected ... adding many more heart stickers that had some shades of purple ... tucking the resulting "artwork" into the clear sleeves on the front, back, and spine of the binder.
Last, I pulled all the bits together. In the end, I was pretty proud of myself for using up more of my stash rather than buying something new. Plus ... you know I can barely resist an art project.
The project has to do with using this Live Your Values card deck to help reaffirm my values, then do a bit of journaling. This exercise goes along with a project I call Many Small Dreams.
Moving to Oregon. Dale's stroke. Surviving the pandemic. Having a new grandchild. Trying to find ways to connect within my community. All these changes in the last four-and-a-half years rocked my world. I've never been one to chase one BIG DREAM. But I do have many small hopes and dreams. I'd like to move them from concept into something practical, then fulfill them in my retirement.
My expectation is that this exercise of contemplation and journaling will bring these many small dreams into focus and have them align closely with the values I hold dear. I plan to keep moving forward through my life with intention.
For the three years of the pandemic, I stayed very close to home. (Luckily, I didn't get ill, so it was worth it!) But I did have very high anxiety and developed a bit of a case of agoraphobia. I could get out of the house with Dale to visit parks and go grocery shopping and geocaching and eventually out to restaurants. But it was really hard for me to venture out on my own. Walks? Yes. Dollar Tree? Yes. Visit Jodie? Yes.
But until very recently, I couldn't get myself to go alone to crowded places ... like movie theaters.
In fact, I think it's been eight years since I've been out to a movie!
Ever since turning 65 and getting part of my health insurance through AARP, Dale and I have been members. I've been quite drawn to one particular benefit: Movies for Grown-ups. I've seen several excellent documentaries through AARP's website. Recently, however, they offered a free screening of a movie at a theater.
You see where this is going.
I went by myself. Drove by myself. Figured out the theater entrance by myself. Learned that they over-booked and I might not get in. If I didn't? I was OK with that because I'd already done the hard part. Lucky for me, there were some no-shows and I got a seat after all.
Such a simple thing pre-pandemic. Now a huge personal accomplishment. I graduated into venturing back out into the world alone.
So Dale celebrated with me. He got me this card, a box of my favorite chocolates, and a banana.
Sometimes it's the little things that are the big things.
I haven't been blogging because I've come down with a case of shingles. That's fun.
That link takes you to the CDC website. Check out the photos if you dare.
My shingles landed on my back ... right where my bra sits (IF I could wear one ... I can't right now). Considering my body shape, this is a significant development.
But I'm grateful to have excellent health care. We caught the problem early. I have good meds that leave me a little shaky and dopey, but not as itchy and prickly as I am without them.
I slept well last night, so woke up with a positive attitude. I'm keeping the image below in mind today as I look into this Oregon sky. I'm optimistic that I can find the sun behind all these rainclouds. Thank you, Uncle Walt.
Today will be my first #PhoneFreeFriday of 2023. I'm leaving my phone on Do Not Disturb for the day. My intention is to give myself a big block of time to concentrate on a project long enough that I can move into the deep flow state.
Every year, my favorite part of the week between Christmas and New Year's Day is reflecting on the year gone by, and planning for the new year. I also take time to spiffy up my Studio so I have fresh room to work.
I completed most of the planning today. Tomorrow will be devoted to reflection.
I've decided on my 2023 goals:
Word of the Year: Flow This means to get completely involved in what I am doing – focused, concentrated. It's when I'm in a space where there is no time. It's present. I also want to get better about "going with the flow" instead of resisting when circumstances cause a change in plans. I want to circulate more in the world since I'm finally starting to get used to being in crowded places again after three years of Covid. And I want to learn to use a flow medium for paint to give my painted rocks a new twist.
2023 Objective: Bring more FUN into my life My least favorite question I'm asked by my mental health professional is, "What do you do for fun?" My answers are lame. I want to have more fun. I want my brain to sparkle.
2023 Creative Goal: Go on another Creative Journey with photography.
I first started learning to take photos by ... just taking photos. I received a point-and-shoot digital camera in 2005. Every day for a couple years, I took photos and posted the very best one of the day on my website. I learned a lot. I'd like to do something similar. This time, read the photo books by great photographers in my personal library, figure out a couple setups for a photo studio, learn some principles of design using online classes, learn more about my editing program, things like that.
23 Goals in 2023:
To keep it simple, I plan to visit 23 more parks in the area with Dale on our Tuesday Travels. If I do that, I'll call it a win for the year.
To make it complicated, I have some alternate goals that involve many kinds of crafts, movies, puzzles, gratitude, geocaches, giving things away, spending time with friends and daughters, listening to audiobooks, and leaving pretty art objects out in the wild for others to find and make their day.
Lift a glass of sparkling cider with me to toast in the new year ...
My retired life is still full of possibility and learning and being of service to others.
Wow. This smoke and lack of light and energy is getting to me. I really don't like this feeling of having "pandemic brain" again.
Dale and I talk about where I am on the emotional scale as a way to gauge how well I'm managing the bipolar syndrome I deal with. At the "one" slot is complete depression. At "ten," I'm manic. Thankfully, I've never been at either extreme. I aim for the 4 - 7 range. 6.5 is my sweet spot.
This morning I was at a solid 3.5 ... not so good. Whah. I feel like crying for no discernable reason.
So I opened my emotional toolbox and tried a number of techniques to try to get back to center.
Concentrating on only doing the "next three things." Teeny tiny baby steps that move me forward and help get the motor running.
Going for a walk. The smoke cleared a little overnight, but not much. That was a mighty short walk -- maybe a quarter mile, but I doubt it. It's not good breathing weather.
Checking on the pumpkins to see how they're growing.
Chat with the grandkids. Dale and I were gung-ho. But the little girls were not in the mood to be on a videocall.
Brunch at our favorite coffee shop. That helped some.
Visited Jodie to give her a gift. That helped some, too.
Making a jigsaw puzzle. More help.
Watching an episode of Call the Midwife.
As I write this blog post, I can say that I'm at a solid 4.25. That's a decent step in the right direction.
Here's the puzzle that helped me today.
It's another 350 piece puzzle called Multicolor Pencil Crayons.
This was a much quicker build than yesterday's puzzle. Putting the bodies of the pencils together was easy and fun. The only tricky parts were the sharpened tips because of the way they interlink.
I'm so grateful that I've built up an extensive number of tools to help get me through my sad days.
Another method Dale and I used is called The Happy Things. When Jodie was a little girl in elementary school, we used to play this game to help give perspective to the day. We take turns saying one thing that makes us happy.
Dale and I played the game while waiting for our server to bring our food. It helped me get out of my head and into the present moment.
I'm happy I live in Oregon
I'm happy we're retired and financially stable
I'm happy we have good health care providers again
I'm happy the artwork I do is no longer a job, but simply for my own enjoyment
I'm happy I have many forms of entertainment, and am overflowing with content
I'm happy I have a partnership with the best man I know, and he loves me too
I'm happy I had four days this week with nothing on the calendar and no obligations
You get the idea. A practice of Gratitude can turn the tide.
Dale and I drove up to Lake Oswego (near Portland) yesterday to participate in my brother-in-law Jerry's funeral mass and celebration of life. Sad as the reason for being there, it was a lovely day.
Jerry was married to my sister Eleanore for over 50 years. They met in Fullerton, CA at our family business. They were teenagers, working side-by-side at Giovanni's Pizza. At one time, Jerry and both of his brothers worked for my parents. It was Jerry who stole my sister's heart.
They were married in 1970. I was asked to be Eleanore's junior bridesmaid. I was 12 years old. It's the only time I've ever been a bridesmaid in my life, so the experience sticks with me. I've even held onto and cherish the hair ribbon I wore that day.
Though Eleanore is 10 years older than I am, she is the sibling I'm most emotionally close to. We have similar interests and outlooks on life. Every time I get to see her in person, I remember just how much I love and admire her.
Jerry had been dealing with an illness for decades. The way Eleanore learned about his syndrome, adapted to it, and stayed by Jerry's side is something to admire and aspire to. They weathered a lot, and it affected not only their marriage, but also their four offspring.
I saw three of my nieces yesterday, and had loving hugs and conversations with two of them. I got to hold newborn Anthony. He is my youngest niece's son, born only five weeks ago. Baby Tony was named for grandfathers on both sides of their little family. He's tiny and beautiful with eyes nearly too big for his head.
The funeral/celebration Mass had a healing effect on me. I haven't attended a Mass in person for years. Eleanore asked me to sing a prelude medley with her. Again, something I hadn't done in front of a congregation in years. My voice certainly isn't what it used to be, yet singing at the front of a church felt like going home. A sense of wonder and peace arose in me as I experienced the familiar rituals of Mass.
Besides singing the opening prelude, Eleanore and her steadfast friend, Maria, did a liturgical dance at the end of Mass. They encouraged all of us to join in. It literally brought me to tears.
Eleanore did so much to honor and celebrate Jerry's life. I feel sanctified to have been a part of it.
Margaret & Eleanore 2008
After the Mass, we had a luncheon. Dale and I sat at a table with the priest who celebrated the Mass, some of Eleanore's new parishioner friends, and a couple of the nuns that were Eleanore's guides through her Bachelor's and Master's journey. The nuns are from the Sisters of the Holy Names, the same order that my favorite nuns from Coeur d'Alene call family.
All these touchstones.
It reminds me how important rituals and connection are in my life ... how much I've missed it throughout these pandemic years. I feel so blessed to have been enveloped into yesterday's reconnections.
Here's what was live-streamed. The part where Eleanore and I sang together begins at approx 3:45
