For Day 4: We'll go with door number 2. (A trip to Redding and assorted other things kept me from writing Monday.)
1. Talk about your childhood bedroom. Did you share? Slam the door? Let someone in you shouldn't have? Where did you hide things?
2. What does your everyday look like? Describe the scene of your happiest moment of every day.
*************
One of the joys of being retired (or on vacation) is not setting an alarm clock, at least most days. (If I have a 10 o'clock class or appointment, yeah, I set it for about 7:45 to allow myself time to get breakfast and shower, and not to be hurried about either.)
I am not a lark. I have NEVER been an early riser if I could choose. I do not sing cheerily in the mornings, engaging in light-hearted, amusing conversation, nor do I do tasks that require a great deal of mental focus and acuity, like, oh, math of any kind (not that I do much of that anyway).
As an employee, I used mornings to proofread documents or file papers. I did not write stories or work on ads. My creativity begins to wake up after 10, and is usually highest between 11 and 4, although I certainly can work late into the evening when necessary.
Nowadays, after breakfast is done and assuming I have a free morning, I head to the computer to read e-mail, browse blogs and Facebook, maybe putz online, checking out free Kindle downloads or what's on sale at my favorite shoe sites. Nothing that requires mental focus and acuity, y'see?
I'm responsible for grocery shopping and meal prep, so almost always in the back of my head, I'm figuring out what's on the menu for the day and how long it'll take to fix.
Usually Mondays are laundry days, fresh sheets and towels, and general tidying. Tuesdays and Thursdays are yoga classes, and I try to plans shopping trips, prescription runs and the like for those days since I'm in town anyway. Since I'm the representative payee for my daughter, I also try to fit in her shopping or bill-paying days then as well. That can eat up a big chunk of a day.
I am never without something that needs doing: closets or drawers or cabinets that need cleaning, R's bills to sort and pay and record, papers to be sorted and dealt with. (I am never done, either. And there's always the attic that MUST be dealt with before the weather gets hot: all those ancient papers and half-finished crafts and old suitcases.) Garden season is coming up, and I know I'll be spending time outside prepping the space, planting, weeding, watering. There are weeds to kill, fallen limbs and debris from the winds to pick up, meadow grass to trim back, a big burn pile. There's never a shortage of outside chores that need doing either, although I'm not always eager to get out there and do them. And yeah, I try to get on the treadmill and 'jiggler' at least several times a week, although my will is weak.
I read two newspapers most days, though, and because of the rising cost of newspapers and subsequent decrease in page count, that can take anywhere from 10 to 45 minutes. I love the feel of the newspaper in my hand, unlike my techie husband who prefers his news digitally, and as long as I can still subscribe to a print version, I'm likely to do so. We also get several magazines, and I'm likely to spend a little time reading through current issues. Although I love to read novels, I rarely do that during the day, saving that treat for bedtime. If I got involved in a novel, we'd be eating crackers and cheese for dinner and nothing else would happen.
Most evenings find us settled in front of the television, watching a pre-recorded episode of one of our favorite series, or perhaps a movie. I might knit while I'm watching; sometimes I skim through magazines that I've set aside.
Pretty boring, hm?
One thing I am *not* is super-involved in anything right now. I've done that: off to meetings and gatherings and committees and rehearsals. I know something will eventually pique my interest enough to want to jump into it again and get passionate about a cause or an event or a program, but at this moment, I'm enjoying being a homebody, a bit of a slug.
Far and away my favorite moment of any given day is bedtime: both of us are snuggied down in the bed, either iPad or magazine in hand to read a bit, kitties starting to settle in their favorite places on our bed. Our little sound machine generates soothing ocean wave sounds; the bed is comfortable and warm, and the love of my life looks at me with his big brown eyes and tells me how much he loves me, adores me, cherishes me. And I smile back at him with my eyes, my mouth, my soul.
It just doesn't get better than that.
Showing posts with label relaxing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relaxing. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Making downtime
I seldom stop doing stuff, even when I'm supposedly "relaxing" -- I fold clothes while I'm watching TV, or go through the stacks of magazines that accumulate by my bedside table or in baskets all over the house, or read the newspapers more thoroughly.
I'll watch Oprah or a movie while I'm cooking or cleaning the kitchen up, or ironing (something I don't often do, but with linen season upon us, the stuff just does better if it's ironed, even briefly).
My mother didn't sit still either, at least until painful osteoporosis forced her into a sedentary life. She sewed or ironed or read while she watched TV or clipped coupons, or something. So it's not odd that I do much the same.
And it's not even something I really MIND doing, usually -- it just needs doing, and for some of these chores, TV makes them more enjoyable.
But sit and read a book? Wow. Only if I'm sick, and then I'm usually really sick and sleeping, not reading. (Note: I read every day. I read the newspapers (two of 'em), I read magazines over lunch, and I have a huge stack of books beside the bed. I always -- ALWAYS -- read after I crawl into bed and before I turn out the light: it helps me transition into sleep, let go of the day and most stressors. Sometimes I can even stay awake long enough to read several chapters.)
But vacation is when I get to read as much as I want, or give myself permission to watch TV without doing something else. Last summer, when we went to Tennessee, I put a significant dent in the last Harry Potter book while we were visiting my brother, and plane trips -- irritating as they can be -- are hours when I get to read without the remotest hint of guilt.
We had a little taste of downtime this weekend when we visited a friend in Davis and went to see Phantom of the Opera in Sacramento. We wandered around Davis, visited the Arboretum, sat outside and enjoyed an al fresco lunch and then brunch today, and talked about nothing deep.
And Phantom was simply glorious, just as I remembered it being the first time I saw it on stage long ago in Nashville, Tenn. We reveled in the music -- played the CDs all the way to Davis -- and it's been playing again in my head all day today.
The weekend was wonderful. Restful, although not related to sleep -- which we did, and well, thankyouverymuch, but just in the down time. Being away from the little things that call to me all the time at home -- do a load of laundry, check the garden, wipe down the sink, clean the kitty fountain, organize the desk -- you know. Being away from the lure of e-mail and Web browsers, from notes that need to get written into articles.
Honest-to-god down time.
We've got a longer escape planned for later, and it shouldn't require doing anything other than watching ocean waves and reading the Jodi Picoult novel I've been saving for such an occasion. I can't wait.
Meanwhile, there's a laundry basket full of clothes that need to be folded. Let me check what's on the DVR...
I'll watch Oprah or a movie while I'm cooking or cleaning the kitchen up, or ironing (something I don't often do, but with linen season upon us, the stuff just does better if it's ironed, even briefly).
My mother didn't sit still either, at least until painful osteoporosis forced her into a sedentary life. She sewed or ironed or read while she watched TV or clipped coupons, or something. So it's not odd that I do much the same.
And it's not even something I really MIND doing, usually -- it just needs doing, and for some of these chores, TV makes them more enjoyable.
But sit and read a book? Wow. Only if I'm sick, and then I'm usually really sick and sleeping, not reading. (Note: I read every day. I read the newspapers (two of 'em), I read magazines over lunch, and I have a huge stack of books beside the bed. I always -- ALWAYS -- read after I crawl into bed and before I turn out the light: it helps me transition into sleep, let go of the day and most stressors. Sometimes I can even stay awake long enough to read several chapters.)
But vacation is when I get to read as much as I want, or give myself permission to watch TV without doing something else. Last summer, when we went to Tennessee, I put a significant dent in the last Harry Potter book while we were visiting my brother, and plane trips -- irritating as they can be -- are hours when I get to read without the remotest hint of guilt.
We had a little taste of downtime this weekend when we visited a friend in Davis and went to see Phantom of the Opera in Sacramento. We wandered around Davis, visited the Arboretum, sat outside and enjoyed an al fresco lunch and then brunch today, and talked about nothing deep.
And Phantom was simply glorious, just as I remembered it being the first time I saw it on stage long ago in Nashville, Tenn. We reveled in the music -- played the CDs all the way to Davis -- and it's been playing again in my head all day today.
The weekend was wonderful. Restful, although not related to sleep -- which we did, and well, thankyouverymuch, but just in the down time. Being away from the little things that call to me all the time at home -- do a load of laundry, check the garden, wipe down the sink, clean the kitty fountain, organize the desk -- you know. Being away from the lure of e-mail and Web browsers, from notes that need to get written into articles.
Honest-to-god down time.
We've got a longer escape planned for later, and it shouldn't require doing anything other than watching ocean waves and reading the Jodi Picoult novel I've been saving for such an occasion. I can't wait.
Meanwhile, there's a laundry basket full of clothes that need to be folded. Let me check what's on the DVR...
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
It's heeeeerrrrreeee.....
Spring, that is. Despite my assertions that there will indeed be a touch more winter, the earth came leaping into life last week.
Daffodils are sporting yellow nodding heads all around the house and even by the entrance to the driveway. The harbinger tree -- the one that pops its bright limey-green leaflets before any of the others are even budding -- did its thing more than a week ago. And I think it was Friday when most of the others began leafing. Flowering trees have been blooming for a few weeks now --red bud, flowering quince, flowering pear, pink almond orchards. (Allergy season is kicking in too, as a result.)
The weather is gorgeous -- near 70 or a tad higher during the day, and lately rather gentle even at night -- we've turned on the ceiling fan and opened windows a bit more, although the flannel sheets are still on. Lots of sunshine, blue skies with puffy white clouds, a little wind now and then.
We were on the Sacramento River on Sunday afternoon with friends and neighbors who I was interviewing for a magazine story. They took us out on their boat -- I wrote and Tony snapped photos; they fished and talked. We were river virgins -- first time we'd been out on it, and it was was fun to see houses we knew from that perspective.
From the Red Bluff Diversion Dam -- whose gates come down in May to form Lake Red Bluff -- we wound north to just below China Rapids -- near the Bend area -- and saw an amazing hot spring that bubbled water near 80 degrees. It's from a lava tube coming out of Lassen, and the rocks are all lava rocks there.
The depth varies from only a few feet to more than 30, and our friends said the river is actually quite low right now -- the powers that guard the river dams are keeping water back for the summer, apparently. There's controversy over what will happen to the salmon fishing season this year too -- a huge blow to our river guide friends -- although not unexpected, as the last two seasons have been poor.
We snagged a salmon, too -- unhooked it and threw it back, of course -- but what a magnificent fish. Over the afternoon, we got two more fish -- one called a squaw fish, which is not a desirable one and which they're told to kill before throwing it back, and the other a beautiful steelhead trout, which lives to be caught another day by someone else. What amazing colors streak each of them! Nature has an incredible paintbox.
My dad took me fishing when I was a girl, and I remember drifting in the boat, lines trailing, reading my book and wondering what, exactly, was so great about fishing -- it seemed pretty boring to me. We fished from a dock too, and he taught me to clean fish. I don't remember going often, but I remember feeling special that I got to go with him.
As an adult, I see the pleasure in letting the boat drift along with the current, rod in hand, watching the river, the trees, the landscape, seeing fish jump, listening to the birds. It's a respite from the traffic drone, the machine noises, the concrete sidewalks and streets, and from people talking talking talking. Catching a fish is secondary.
It was a blessing to be out there, and rejuvenating especially for Tony, I think. I have the freedom to be outside whenever I wish, and our land is wonderful, truly, except that I tend to see all the things that I ought to be doing -- planting things, mowing things, trimming, raking, picking up -- rather than just listening to the land.
Spring doesn't whisper here, it shouts.
Daffodils are sporting yellow nodding heads all around the house and even by the entrance to the driveway. The harbinger tree -- the one that pops its bright limey-green leaflets before any of the others are even budding -- did its thing more than a week ago. And I think it was Friday when most of the others began leafing. Flowering trees have been blooming for a few weeks now --red bud, flowering quince, flowering pear, pink almond orchards. (Allergy season is kicking in too, as a result.)
The weather is gorgeous -- near 70 or a tad higher during the day, and lately rather gentle even at night -- we've turned on the ceiling fan and opened windows a bit more, although the flannel sheets are still on. Lots of sunshine, blue skies with puffy white clouds, a little wind now and then.
We were on the Sacramento River on Sunday afternoon with friends and neighbors who I was interviewing for a magazine story. They took us out on their boat -- I wrote and Tony snapped photos; they fished and talked. We were river virgins -- first time we'd been out on it, and it was was fun to see houses we knew from that perspective.
From the Red Bluff Diversion Dam -- whose gates come down in May to form Lake Red Bluff -- we wound north to just below China Rapids -- near the Bend area -- and saw an amazing hot spring that bubbled water near 80 degrees. It's from a lava tube coming out of Lassen, and the rocks are all lava rocks there.
The depth varies from only a few feet to more than 30, and our friends said the river is actually quite low right now -- the powers that guard the river dams are keeping water back for the summer, apparently. There's controversy over what will happen to the salmon fishing season this year too -- a huge blow to our river guide friends -- although not unexpected, as the last two seasons have been poor.
We snagged a salmon, too -- unhooked it and threw it back, of course -- but what a magnificent fish. Over the afternoon, we got two more fish -- one called a squaw fish, which is not a desirable one and which they're told to kill before throwing it back, and the other a beautiful steelhead trout, which lives to be caught another day by someone else. What amazing colors streak each of them! Nature has an incredible paintbox.
My dad took me fishing when I was a girl, and I remember drifting in the boat, lines trailing, reading my book and wondering what, exactly, was so great about fishing -- it seemed pretty boring to me. We fished from a dock too, and he taught me to clean fish. I don't remember going often, but I remember feeling special that I got to go with him.
As an adult, I see the pleasure in letting the boat drift along with the current, rod in hand, watching the river, the trees, the landscape, seeing fish jump, listening to the birds. It's a respite from the traffic drone, the machine noises, the concrete sidewalks and streets, and from people talking talking talking. Catching a fish is secondary.
It was a blessing to be out there, and rejuvenating especially for Tony, I think. I have the freedom to be outside whenever I wish, and our land is wonderful, truly, except that I tend to see all the things that I ought to be doing -- planting things, mowing things, trimming, raking, picking up -- rather than just listening to the land.
Spring doesn't whisper here, it shouts.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Down time
Winter is raging outside today and will be, according to forecasts, for several more days. We need the rain.
But I have a fire in the stove, hot tea, and we still have power, so I'm watching movies and mindless stuff on our new DISH system, which was our Christmas present to each other this year. We feel like we went from zero to 100 mph with it, since we'd had only rabbit ears for the last nearly five years -- by choice, I might add. But we're thoroughly enjoying HD movies and shows, and the variety of programming that is available.
I'll get back to work soon, but for now, a little down time feels very good. It was a very busy December for work, a wonderful trip to Tennessee for Christmas, and then a New Year's Day gathering here that was great fun. And even fun things necessitate some work -- shopping, cooking, prepping, etc. -- so it is nice to sip tea and be still for a while without any 'gotta-dos' on the immediate horizon. I've realized I seldom allow myself a day off -- completely off --
I've been flirting with a cold though, one that Tony brought back home with him, and so I'm trying to ward it off through regular doses of Airborne (the generic equivalent, at least), and my favorite Wellness Formula that really does work. For some seven or so years we've taken it at the first glimmer of illness, and it's saved us from bad colds and flu many times.
With this latest cold, Tony had begun taking it before we flew, and upped the dose a bit when he got a scratchy throat. As a result, he never really felt bad nor did the cold go into his chest. It's just been drippy nose alternating with stuffy nose, and that's pretty much all. I'm popping it now in hopes of similar results, although I've said for years that I rarely get sick because I'm too mean to get sick -- the germs leave me alone.
I've given some thought to new year intentions -- not resolutions, for they almost invariably get unresolved -- and so far they're not much different from last year's. Mostly I want to be where I am -- to savor each day for whatever it brings me, to find joy and gratitude every single day. I still work on kindness both to myself and to others, and patience (ditto). More about listening than speaking. More acceptance of what is, less judgment. (I am not very tolerant of people who are judgmental, either, nor of those who think their opinion is the only one that matters. So I guess that makes ME judgmental, hm...)
Time for more Wellness formula. And Oprah.
May you have some downtime without being sick to get it!
But I have a fire in the stove, hot tea, and we still have power, so I'm watching movies and mindless stuff on our new DISH system, which was our Christmas present to each other this year. We feel like we went from zero to 100 mph with it, since we'd had only rabbit ears for the last nearly five years -- by choice, I might add. But we're thoroughly enjoying HD movies and shows, and the variety of programming that is available.
I'll get back to work soon, but for now, a little down time feels very good. It was a very busy December for work, a wonderful trip to Tennessee for Christmas, and then a New Year's Day gathering here that was great fun. And even fun things necessitate some work -- shopping, cooking, prepping, etc. -- so it is nice to sip tea and be still for a while without any 'gotta-dos' on the immediate horizon. I've realized I seldom allow myself a day off -- completely off --
I've been flirting with a cold though, one that Tony brought back home with him, and so I'm trying to ward it off through regular doses of Airborne (the generic equivalent, at least), and my favorite Wellness Formula that really does work. For some seven or so years we've taken it at the first glimmer of illness, and it's saved us from bad colds and flu many times.
With this latest cold, Tony had begun taking it before we flew, and upped the dose a bit when he got a scratchy throat. As a result, he never really felt bad nor did the cold go into his chest. It's just been drippy nose alternating with stuffy nose, and that's pretty much all. I'm popping it now in hopes of similar results, although I've said for years that I rarely get sick because I'm too mean to get sick -- the germs leave me alone.
I've given some thought to new year intentions -- not resolutions, for they almost invariably get unresolved -- and so far they're not much different from last year's. Mostly I want to be where I am -- to savor each day for whatever it brings me, to find joy and gratitude every single day. I still work on kindness both to myself and to others, and patience (ditto). More about listening than speaking. More acceptance of what is, less judgment. (I am not very tolerant of people who are judgmental, either, nor of those who think their opinion is the only one that matters. So I guess that makes ME judgmental, hm...)
Time for more Wellness formula. And Oprah.
May you have some downtime without being sick to get it!
Sunday, April 01, 2007
R&R
We had a lovely getaway just overnight this weekend in McCloud at the McCloud Hotel, and a wonderful dinner experience on the Shasta Sunset Dinner Train. What made it even more fun is that we went with a whole group of friends -- there were 16 of us, and a lively bunch it was, too!
There were no TVs in the rooms, no phones, and it was quiet == not that it is noisy out here in the country, but the lack of urgency to DO something wasn't there, nor was the vague sense of "I ought to be doing....(pick your favorite to-do)" that is nearly always present. It was simply relaxing and enjoyable. I wasn't thinking about what to fix for dinner or breakfast, wasn't thinking about doing laundry or answering e-mail or organizing the desk or anything. I was completely focused on what was happening in that moment....listening to the stories, watching the animated faces, laughing at silly comments.
The slow clickclack of the train through the piney woods was wonderful ... just enough sway to remind you that you're on a train, but it was easy to walk through the car without stumbling. And the car itself was just magnificent -- completely restored wood, lovely tables set with heavy flatware, white tablecloths and fresh flowers. Three attendants took care of the whole car -- probably around 50 diners -- for three hours, taking drink orders, pouring wine and water and coffee, serving four courses, and chatting as though you were the only people there. They were efficient and very pleasant and we thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
It's so interesting to watch people in a group. We knew most of the people who came, and easily visited with the new acquaintances. We discovered things we didn't know about the people we already knew, and enjoyed the new personality mixes.
I found out a few things about myself, too. I watched more than I participated this weekend.... oh, I talked plenty and laughed a lot. But one group started singing on the train -- lots of songs I've known and sung for years -- and while I followed along, it was quietly and not in the middle of the group for a change. They were old songs, and I've known all the words to most of them for decades (oh, those college drinking days!)
It was a bit of a new experience to stand back and observe the personalities and interchanges, and to watch the others in the group and on the train as they reacted to the singers. I was aware at different times of pulling back and watching and listening instead of sharing a comment or a related story -- and that was different for me. There are very strong personalities in this group and I learned a lot by just watching.
Yes ... I can keep my mouth shut and stories to myself on occasion!
Strangely, tonight I'm really tired -- we talked about it at supper and decided it was just letting down our guard and getting away even briefly, and that it was very, very relaxing, and that is what we're both feeling --
We love our home office. But you don't ever leave the office either -- even when you shut off the computer and walk into the other parts of the house, it comes with you. We need to get away more, I think, and let it go.
******************
Friday afternoon I planted seeds in the garden -- romaine lettuce, buttercrunch lettuce, mesclun, radishes, green onions, and sugar snap peas. And I threw a few bell pepper seeds into the ground to see if they'll root. The dirt is loose and fine from tilling it again just before I planted, and I hope to see seedlings later this week.
But we've already had a bumper crop of rocks. The garden is located on the old debris pile for the entire subdivision -- lots of trees, shrubs, rocks, etc. were dumped there in the late '70s when it was built. When we moved here, we burned the pile, which had sunk considerably, and it glowed for a week. We tilled and put a couple of loads of manure on top of it and let it sit over a winter before we put it into raised beds and tilled again.
And the rocks keep coming -- they grow little rocks. Some of the charred smaller sticks that were deep in the pile are coming up to the surface this year too. And rocks. Big rocks -- four or so inches. Gravel. Little rocks.
Long as the garden keeps growing, it's okay. I'll just keep sifting through the rocks with my fingers and toss them onto the paths around the garden. I expect to be sifting for many years.
It was a good weekend. I feel almost ready for the coming week -- but first, a good sleep in our own bed, kitties snugged in with us.
There were no TVs in the rooms, no phones, and it was quiet == not that it is noisy out here in the country, but the lack of urgency to DO something wasn't there, nor was the vague sense of "I ought to be doing....(pick your favorite to-do)" that is nearly always present. It was simply relaxing and enjoyable. I wasn't thinking about what to fix for dinner or breakfast, wasn't thinking about doing laundry or answering e-mail or organizing the desk or anything. I was completely focused on what was happening in that moment....listening to the stories, watching the animated faces, laughing at silly comments.
The slow clickclack of the train through the piney woods was wonderful ... just enough sway to remind you that you're on a train, but it was easy to walk through the car without stumbling. And the car itself was just magnificent -- completely restored wood, lovely tables set with heavy flatware, white tablecloths and fresh flowers. Three attendants took care of the whole car -- probably around 50 diners -- for three hours, taking drink orders, pouring wine and water and coffee, serving four courses, and chatting as though you were the only people there. They were efficient and very pleasant and we thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
It's so interesting to watch people in a group. We knew most of the people who came, and easily visited with the new acquaintances. We discovered things we didn't know about the people we already knew, and enjoyed the new personality mixes.
I found out a few things about myself, too. I watched more than I participated this weekend.... oh, I talked plenty and laughed a lot. But one group started singing on the train -- lots of songs I've known and sung for years -- and while I followed along, it was quietly and not in the middle of the group for a change. They were old songs, and I've known all the words to most of them for decades (oh, those college drinking days!)
It was a bit of a new experience to stand back and observe the personalities and interchanges, and to watch the others in the group and on the train as they reacted to the singers. I was aware at different times of pulling back and watching and listening instead of sharing a comment or a related story -- and that was different for me. There are very strong personalities in this group and I learned a lot by just watching.
Yes ... I can keep my mouth shut and stories to myself on occasion!
Strangely, tonight I'm really tired -- we talked about it at supper and decided it was just letting down our guard and getting away even briefly, and that it was very, very relaxing, and that is what we're both feeling --
We love our home office. But you don't ever leave the office either -- even when you shut off the computer and walk into the other parts of the house, it comes with you. We need to get away more, I think, and let it go.
******************
Friday afternoon I planted seeds in the garden -- romaine lettuce, buttercrunch lettuce, mesclun, radishes, green onions, and sugar snap peas. And I threw a few bell pepper seeds into the ground to see if they'll root. The dirt is loose and fine from tilling it again just before I planted, and I hope to see seedlings later this week.
But we've already had a bumper crop of rocks. The garden is located on the old debris pile for the entire subdivision -- lots of trees, shrubs, rocks, etc. were dumped there in the late '70s when it was built. When we moved here, we burned the pile, which had sunk considerably, and it glowed for a week. We tilled and put a couple of loads of manure on top of it and let it sit over a winter before we put it into raised beds and tilled again.
And the rocks keep coming -- they grow little rocks. Some of the charred smaller sticks that were deep in the pile are coming up to the surface this year too. And rocks. Big rocks -- four or so inches. Gravel. Little rocks.
Long as the garden keeps growing, it's okay. I'll just keep sifting through the rocks with my fingers and toss them onto the paths around the garden. I expect to be sifting for many years.
It was a good weekend. I feel almost ready for the coming week -- but first, a good sleep in our own bed, kitties snugged in with us.
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