When Dan was running errands a few mornings ago, he found this metal plaque to put in one of our flower beds.
We are getting to an age where life is becoming more precious and fleeting. Regardless of what is happening, how we are feeling, or who is or is not physically with us, we try to make the most of each and every day. This little sign will be a reminder to help us do just that.
We have other such reminders around our house. They may be a bit corny but they work for us. 🙂 They help us to appreciate each other and our life together.
Not every day is the best, but try to make the best of every day💞
I have often wondered about Karma – “what goes around comes around?”. It generally seems that Karma is more a hit than a miss. I do something I think is super special and …. nothing. Not a thank-you, not a thumbs up from the universe, Nada! Then someone does something totally nasty to me and …. the universe beams down on them. All the while, Karma is nowhere to be found.
Then there are the other times – those times when I am just trucking along, totally oblivious to Karma. I am not trying to bargain with her or pressure her or sneak anything past her, and there she is!
In the past few days, Karma has just been there! It started off in such a simple manner that it hardly seemed ‘Karma‘ worthy.
Before we received our recent heavy dump of fresh snow, Kat and I had resumed our daily walk. Dan had been joining us. After a few days, the walks started to bother him – a lot! Dan is a big man. He has been working in a steel plant, walking miles and miles, on cement floors, wearing heavy steel toed and steel plate metguard work boots for decades. His feet have taken a beating. Since he has been off of work for a few months now, the feeling seems to be coming back to them, making things even worse than usual.
I knew Dan had foot issues. I knew he had a number of thick callouses and problems with his nails. It is one thing to know it and another to really know it. One day Dan was saying how much his feet always bother him and it just hit me how much discomfort he was in. I started wondering if I could do anything to help.
The next day we went shopping and I looked around for foot care products. We came home with some Dr. Teal’s Epson salts. At home, I found a rubber basin and some foot lotion. That night, I brought everything out and asked Dan if we could try soaking his feet. He was more than willing. Now, this has become a thing we do. Every night I fix a warm basin of water with Epsom salts, he soaks his feet, one at a time, and as they come out I dry them and massage them with foot cream.
Our evening ritual takes less than an hour from start to finish. Dan’s feet started looking and feeling better by the third night in. It was amazing.
What was even more amazing, was the unexpected arrival of Karma. As Dan’s feet have been healing, I have found it pleasant and relaxing to work our way through our evening routine. It is like our own little spa date every night. As a bonus, my hands are smoother and softer than they have been for years, the achy stiffness has been melting away, and my dexterity is improving daily. Thank you, Karma!
Back in the day (my day), people went to great lengths searching to ‘find themselves’.
I loved and admired my father. If I ever envied him, it was because he never had to ‘find’ himself. He knew who he was, and he was who he was, regardless of who he may have been dealing with at any particular time.
My father was a very quiet, peaceful man. I spent a lot of time with him and I remember him losing his temper with someone else ONCE! My parents owned a service station/autobody shop. My siblings and I pumped gas from the time we could reach the gas nozzle. One day, my father was busy in the back of the shop when a customer pulled in. He was a big man (at least 6′-6″ and 250 lbs). He owned one of the most successful retail businesses in town and was no doubt on the town council and Chamber of Commerce. I ran out to pump his gas. I was tiny, probably about six years old. This big man got out of his vehicle, stepped around it, and stood behind me. I did not notice he had a lit cigarette in his hand. My father stepped out of the shop. He noticed! He yelled at the man to get away from me and he went up one side of him and down the other for half a block. My father was 4′-10″ and 130lbs. If I had not been so shocked at his outburst, I would probably have found the entire incident hysterically funny. The customer obviously did not, but I never saw him smoke another cigarette in his life. He did remain a loyal customer.
At the other end of the spectrum, my class was making graduation plans. We had to choose a business person to make a toast to the graduating class. I was surprised when one of my classmates nominated my father. When I asked why, he said because my father treated everyone in town with the same respect and consideration – everyone including the teenagers in my class. It did not matter to my father who you were, he knew who he was, and he acted accordingly.
I was not like my father when it came to knowing and being myself. I blame him. 😂 To the very end, on his deathbed and while I was pushing forty, my father would introduce me as ‘our baby’. To be fair, six kids in, he probably forgot my name by the time the ink dried on my birth certificate.
During this past year of seclusion, or reclusion as the case may be, I have been ‘finding myself’. I have found myself, learned to like and accept myself.
The interesting part of this journey, is that while I have been finding myself, I have learned to accept others as they are. They do not have to agree with me or validate my views, and I can accept them as they are and respect their views – even if I disagree with them.
I don’t know if this is a new level of maturity or self confidence, but I am in a good place. A peaceful place. I am ready to quit searching and just be – me!
Yesterday I went out shopping for the first time in ages. Dan had an errand to run so he dropped me off at Walmart to get started on my mission.
I don’t know if there are supply chain issues, strange hoardings happening, or if it was just coincidence, but I struggled to find some things that I went for. Walmart was out of Epsom salts, potting soil, dish towels, and yeast. Plus, a bag of flour spontaneously flew off a shelf and tried to take me down. Love shopping!
By the time I was ready to move on to the Dollar Store, Dan was back to join me. They had the peanuts for our squirrels and sunflower seeds for our birds. We managed to grab a few other things including some new flowers for Dan’s parents gravestone.
I finished out my shopping trip with a quick stop at Home Depot. They had nothing I needed so it was back home.
I was never that into shopping, but these days I really try to avoid it. Between the people who cannot follow directional arrows and the ones who refuse to keep their distance at cash out, I get more than a little annoyed. Some people have no respect or consideration for the store personnel who are there to serve them. With these Covid variants affecting younger and younger people, it is hard not to see my daughter and granddaughter in every vulnerable clerk I see. 😞
Today is Dan’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Dear! We started the day with a trip out to the graveyard to bring his parent’s their spring bouquet. It seemed a fitting day for such a visit. We came home and I made Dan breakfast and put our plants out to enjoy the sunshine. 🌞 A few minutes ago Dan called his sister who is also celebratingher birthday today – different year same day. 😉
I typically begin my day with a cup of coffee and a few minutes online with our local newspaper. This is not generally the best way to begin my day, but I persist. Yesterday my persistence paid off!
Yesterday, tucked in amongst the tedious, depressing news of the day, there was a brilliant article on an amazing woman.
Fran Forsberg has spent decades providing a kind and loving home for over 160 foster children. Her dedication to these children did not stop with a healthy diet, clean clothing, and a warm bed. Fran Forster cared about the children she took in and cared about doing all she could to ensure that they fulfilled their potential and had the tools they needed to succeed in life.
In the nineties, Fran found herself mother to two children who were gender diverse. Wanting to be as informed and as supportive as possible, she attended a symposium on gender diversity. She was one mother in a room full of endocrinologists and psychologists. She returned home with a mission to do what needed to be done to ensure respect, pride, equality and success for children who were struggling in a society that did not typically understand nor accept them.
At sixty six, Fran Forsberg is still dedicated to the youth she continues to actively work with and for. Although she is no longer a foster parent, she has taken in three infants to care for during the pandemic.
Fran Forsberg is a heroine to many and having read this article about her, I am definitely one of them. It is not about her gender, her age, or even her personal mission. Fran Forsberg is an inspiration. She is a beautiful, positive, powerful person who despite a pandemic, financial struggles, political woes, and all of the turmoil that rocks our lives these days, she is still a beautiful, positive, powerful person – living her best life to do her part to make life better for others. 💞
I have struggled for years to overcome stress and anxiety. In the past couple of years, I have turned things around and have learned to focus on living a life of inner peace. This has made all the difference in the world. My life has become so much easier and better in so many ways!
I have, for the most part, learned to appreciate the NOW. This present moment. I have released the pain and grief of the the past. I have released the fear of the future. I do my best to make each day, hour, each moment a peaceful oasis.
One of the aspects of this new lifestyle is a tendency to be far more positive and hopeful than I have ever been. Now is good, so I know that there are even better days to come!
With this positivity, a new devil is spawned. My patience is being sorely tested as never before! One cannot be truly at peace NOW when one is totally focussed on the future – regardless of how bright and beautiful that future may be.
Today I awoke to a new cactus blossom. It is spectacular, if only for today. I checked on my little seedlings and they are growing larger and stronger by the day. I watched Kat bounce out to the yard to chase the birds and harrass the squirrels.
It is a good day! It is a great day! But wait…. Soon the the grass will turn green, the trees will leaf out, our garden will thrive, flowers will bloom and temperatures will soar. We will spend countless hours outside. Days will be spent walking Kat along meandering paths and floating in our pool. Evenings will be spent barbecuing on our patio and sipping wine as we relax on our deck chairs.
But we have to wait. 🤦 We have to appreciate today. And we have to be patient. Summer will get here – eventually!
I come from a French Canadian family but one of the biggest days of the year in our house was March 17th – St. Patrick’s Day. My mother loved to celebrate and she never met a holiday she didn’t love. March 17th was a double hitter in our home – a day to celebrate the life of a great Catholic saint and my father’s birthday.
With the physique of a leprechaun, a twinkle in his eye, and a spring in his step, it was totally fitting that my Dad was allowed to be Irish one day of the year.
This year to celebrate this special spring holiday, I started the day by tending to my little seedlings. The first seeds I planted are coming along nicely. I hope they do not get too big before our garden is ready for planting.
I have to start with my bouquet because this is just too good. Big bouquet going to my hubby! We had our once a week day off from working out yesterday. (Six weeks and counting!) Dan helped me make supper to celebrate. I made the salad and pasta. Dan cooked the shrimp and it was amazing!!! He even opened a bottle of Pinot Noir to go with it despite having an open bottle of Merlot in the cupboard. 🥳
Now for the beef! Actually, it is my own fault so I shouldn’t beef about it but here goes. 😒 I have a BAD habit – and it is driving me nuts.
Every morning I get up and read the local paper online while I have my coffee. It is not the news that makes me nuts. For the most part our news is more non-news than anything. There are great things that happen here. There are terrible things that happen here. Our media reports the news that doesn’t happen here. On tv they report the news that doesn’t happen at 5 pm and then repeat it at 6pm. (IE They air an interview with a golfer who did not get hit by lightning at 5 – and then they repeat it at 6. If said golfer is super excited about not getting hit by lightning they will repeat the interview twice a day for two or three days in a row). 🤦
The bulk of our newspaper focusses on sports (which I don’t read), obituaries (which I do read. So far they haven’t mentioned me 👍), advertisements and politics. I scan the politics. I can deal with the political ‘news’.
What I cannot handle, and can’t seem to stop myself from doing, is reading the reader comments. The majority of the comments are posted by the MOB club. (miserable old bastards). OMG!!! Same thing, day in and day out. These pathetic old souls are so hard done by! They can’t even agree with themselves from one day to the next but God forbid if anyone disagrees with them!
I need to stop reading these stupid comments. They are not a positive start to my day. I could care less what these miserable, self-centred, arrogant, bullies think. But I cannot help myself. Good grief, I am starting to sound as pathetic as they are. 😟.