Hope floats…

24 Jul 2024 2 Comments

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What an amazing week this has been, and it’s only Wednesday. I’m trying to remember when my social media feeds last reflected so much fresh optimism and pure hope. My first and overriding thought, “Maybe this brave little experiment in democracy isn’t over yet,” is enough to keep me out of the slough of despond for the foreseeable future. Wish we could see ahead and know what that future looks like, but for now a flood of hope and possibility is more than welcome.

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It seems that once the scent of hopefulness hits the air, it pulls the atmosphere along with it and other positives start lining up. Yesterday we got some things accomplished and put behind us that have been like a weight around my neck for months. In an homage to having survived all that (always with the drama!), I’ve given myself the day off to do exactly as I please, which so far has been to make the bed and sit down right here. My “To Do” list now holds seven things rather than thirty-seven, and I feel like a kid out of school for the summer. Life gets really good sometimes.

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It would be tragic if the U.S. were to end on a sour note so I hope (see what I did there) that we’re all ready to choose hopefulness and run with it.

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If life has felt extra challenging to you of late, if you’re feeling drained and exhausted all the time, if everything’s a muddle in your head, if your heart aches… I, by virtue of seniority, hereby grant dispensation and grace to give yourself a day off, or an hour, whatever you can manage without making things worse. If you need a rest, take it. Get by yourself and let hope soak in for a while. Your world will benefit from the resulting ripple effect.

💋💋💋

Image by Judy Smith

Happy Winds Day…

03 Apr 2024 Leave a comment

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Hello on a chilly spring HumpDay. Good news: the sun’s shining and breaking up the clouds. Bad news: the wind’s blowing and it’s 42°. My bones are ready for warmth. For sunny days. For good news all ’round. Here’s a little piece of it: Dave & Dar have apparently decided to make us their spring and summer birthing center once again and the little dove house is no longer empty. We’ll be providing fern-y protection once we’re past our frost-free date. Meanwhile, here we are again and the continuity is comforting.

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I may have a hat made that says “DOVE HOVERER.” It would go well with others I wear, including these:

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And most of all…

Image by Judy Smith

The gifts of summer…

23 Jun 2023 Leave a comment

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Summer Solstice… missed it right by. So it happened without me, as most of life does, and we’re swimming in summer vibes now, even though it all looks the same from my windows. I’m finishing a big project for a friend this weekend along with a few other things, and then the assignment will be to screw my head on straight for a while. Time to reestablish the routine where I get up and do the things, including a daily stroll without excuses, so I can fall asleep at night feeling okay about myself.

Anyway, hi summer, glad you made it. Someone asked me the other day about my plans for the fall and it took me a minute to realize they were talking about October, not the collapse of society. Sigh… it’s an old joke by now.

I hope you feel free as a bird this summer, with plans you can take or leave as the mood dictates. Things are copacetic here, notwithstanding the ridiculous perpetual angst of the person writing. Sweet thing yesterday… I went out on the balcony to check on Kim’s strawberries, bent over, scrabbled around in the planter throwing out dry leaves and other detritus, and when I straightened up I was eye to eye with Mr. David Dove, who neither blinked nor flinched. Not a feather moved, in fact he seemed quite relaxed and happy to be right where he was. He wasn’t there when I stepped out, so he had to have purposely landed precisely in front of me, and I swear he was smiling softly. I had a quiet convo with him, telling him again how happy we are to have him and Darleen and their little broods camping with us. When I came back inside, he hopped over to the nest, switched places with Dar, settled in, and looked snoozy immediately. It feels… sacred… to be adopted by a small creature who senses I could harm it, but chooses trust over fear.

It’s pretty cozy in there.

Since childhood I’ve heard all sorts of things about what it means when you start talking to yourself. I’ll tell you what it means – it means nobody else is around at the moment to talk to. I didn’t used to like myself very much, but since getting to know me a little better, I’m really enjoying the friendly banter that goes on here, plus I give great advice. And take this with a grain of salt because I don’t know what I’m talking about, but word on the street is that knowledgeable conversation with yourself means you’re going sane instead of crazy. Think about THAT.

So yeah, making those lists, checking them twice, and we’ll see what happens.

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And this, in ways known only to me, is related:

My Christmas wish for me and everyone I know.

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I like it when you’re smiling, so here’s a little gem from the week. The woman who bought my farm was a District Judge, now Chief Judge, and one day about ten years ago while she was in court her niece played secretary in her office. The judge returned to find this… and I assume other treasures.

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Forecast for the next few days is hot and sunny. Enjoy!

Image by Judy Smith

Hitting the pause button…

16 Jun 2023 Leave a comment

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All week I had the dumb and couldn’t brain, so I took a No-Brainer Day yesterday to reset. Went for a walk around the neighborhood, slept for four hours, then spent the remainder of the day doing mindless things on my computer, by which I mean I cleaned out both of my Messenger apps click by click because I couldn’t force “select all” to function. I was horrified to find in iMessenger that everything sent or received since 2012 was still there! How do these things happen?? Welp, somebody goes mentally AWOL for five or ten years while pain runs the show and it all stacks up, the evidence doesn’t lie. I was born with a Siamese twin named Anxiety so she’s never not been attached to me. An ordered existence goes far in keeping her quiet, but she could tear up an anvil in a heartbeat if I didn’t watch her, so she has to be considered in every equation. She was feeling much better by bedtime last night.

So an intentional Get Yourself Better Day turned out to be exactly what the doctor ordered: the brain fog lifted, the thinking processes lined up straighter, and a probable answer broke through. Pretty sure my anti-seizure Rx was working overtime, rendering me near-comatose since sleepiness is a side effect if the drug doesn’t have enough to do. BINGO. I cut yesterday’s doses in half and felt the difference within hours. So. ONWARD. The good news is that the focal seizures have been very much under control lately, so no worries.

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My secret plan is to go underground for the weekend and show up Monday morning ready to function as a human. Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, a few topical memes on our way to doing Friday right, starting with today’s PRIDE MONTH post:

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Topic of the week (read century). Leaving this here for posterity’s sake.

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And this last one is for all the feelers who water the earth with our tears and drive the macho-macho-race mad with frustration. I encounter something to cry about at every turn in the day so sometimes I try to get that over with first thing in the morning. Just have a good cry about EVERYTHING and EVERYBODY and proceed, Guv’nah. Then later, when touching or infuriating things pop up, I can say “Nope, gave at the office, already cried my quota for the day, c’mon inner peace.” Believe it or not, I am kicking the snot out of it… it actually works. Sometimes.

Why we cry.

It seems happy little Pollyanna’s work here is done for now, so it’s time to toddle off and scrounge up something more nourishing than coffee before I get on with doing as little as possible. You know what feels good and right on a Friday or any other day ending in “y”? Self-care without guilt. Don’t wait ’til you’re past 75 to try it.

Live your story. Right now.

Image by Judy Smith

Putting the pro in procrastinate…

12 Jun 2023 Leave a comment

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Experience has taught me that I do my best writing when I’m supposed to be doing something else, so here I am, saying good morning, and thanking you for your help in keeping this a safe place for all of us. It’s funny to realize that even after almost fifteen years out of touch with the working world… can that be?? … Mondays are still Mondays. It’s the day I’ll apparently always wake up and say “Couldn’t we do that tomorrow?”

A bit of news… the Doves, David and Darleen, are once again enjoying a peaceful incubation interlude in their leafy bower. Two perfect-looking eggs, two new babies to fledge. And then what, I wonder. Google isn’t very forthcoming as to what adult mourning doves do until another spring rolls around, but it can likely be summed up in one word, “survive.” Which segues us right back to Monday…

… the perfect day for this question:

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Self-assigned task today, pick a shower and take it:

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They misspelled “surprised,” so you see my point, I’m sure. Point, blade, knife…

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Guess we could try this for starters on a Monday, ‘k world?

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P.S…

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Image by Judy Smith

Still springing…

06 Apr 2023 Leave a comment

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As usual, fickle spring can’t make up her mind, and she will have it her way regardless. It looks perfectly lovely outside but when I opened the balcony door after sunrise, I was instantly made aware of the real-feel temp. Doesn’t matter, it’s just weather and we haven’t a particle of power to change it day to day, which would be easier to take if we had even a smidgen of influence on the rest of life. It’s part of my job to warn you that the aging process inevitably brings loss in most every direction, and far sooner than we’re led to believe: loss of influence, loss of credibility, of independence, of energy, strength, and power, among other attributes we formerly took for granted. Sooner than we could possibly anticipate, we start to sense that we’re next-in-line for increased outside input concerning our well-being and security. Lord, I was just there with six older family members! Facts say it’s been more than twenty years since I played the caregiver role, but in my economy it was only yesterday… and although we’re not there yet, I can feel it creeping up to scope us out. Oh, the places we’ll go, the realizations we’ll make along the way. Life is… weird. And a little anticlimactic. Is this all there is? Send in the clowns…

In retrospect, 2022 was a daunting challenge every day, and 2023 isn’t proving to be very inventive on its own because it’s more of the same. A person could worry.

Nevertheless, we press on…

I know this much is true:

  1. We’re all pedaling as fast as we can.
  2. As soon as we know better, we try to do better.

My old-lady gripe is that life moves a pinch too fast from womb to tomb. It never slows for us, and by the time we figure a couple of things out we’re, as my grandma said, “too soon old, too late shmart.” Pisses me off, that sense of powerlessness. But as a Teutonic realist, I see the dilemma for what it is… life’s current and coming challenge is to hang in and get better because the alternative creates even more righteous rage within. And silent rage is treacherous because it’s a gateway drug to depression, which is the opposite of living. We don’t wanna go there.

Image by Judy Smith

Arguing with the sun…

28 Feb 2023 8 Comments

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It’s morning and the sun’s already climbing the sky, a situation that happens with alarming regularity, so it’s time to coffee up and deal. Some, not knowing better, might consider me the ultimate morning snob, as I strive to speak with no one before their time. Feels best to open my eyes in the semi-dark, consider seriously whether or not to stick a foot out yet, and spend the next couple of hours communing with Kim’s coffee and my own random brain waves, blithely referred to as The Muses. He goes away mid-morning to work out his existence within the parameters of PickleBall and comes home to either visible progress here while he was out, or invisible brain activity yielding no concrete evidence of any sort. No worries… he plays, I play, and we keep the News of the World out of our ears, damped to a slow burn. Some days there are spa soaks, and eventually lunch shows up, Kim having either made or brought it, which is what cooks do… it’s so cool. Afternoons often see a flurry of housework and errands, and evenings are couched in tequila shots, so it’s just all good, and the Life Police haven’t knocked on our door to let us know we’re doing it wrong.

Not really unsociable, not a recluse yet, I simply like having time to savor the best life offers me…

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A thing the years have taught me is that every time I stick my neck out, somebody loops a lariat around it and leads me to a watering hole somewhere I hadn’t planned to go. Never look thirsty, is a rule I like. Otherwise you end up doing THIS:

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Trying the road less traveled these days…

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Because some things are indisputable.

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Look at us, getting all healthy and stuff. Wow.

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Image by Judy Smith

The junk drawer…

06 Feb 2023 3 Comments

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How does someone long retired still end up with The Mondays every week? Apparently there are things so ingrained in our psyches that we can never break loose, but this is silly… Monday doesn’t bring bad news, heinous commitments, or unbearable stress, it’s just Day One and maybe therein lies the dread: What fanciful ways will I find in which to screw up in the week ahead of me? Oh well.

Life of late sort of chugs along on its own with not too many momentous events, and stays just weird enough not to devolve into apathy. My brain, not in demand for anything much, carries on an existence it doesn’t share with me unless I ask, and the days do tend to stay JUST. WEIRD. ENOUGH.

Yesterday it came to me that part of the loneliness attached to this decade stems from no longer being an intrinsic part of a big supportive family. That network started crumbling some years back and I miss it, while also recognizing that not everything is forever. We all grow into who we are, and the pieces don’t match up anymore. Just the facts.

So, time to start the week with a smile. I stole an idea this morning from someone whose blog I like, and I hope she won’t mind terribly. She has no idea I exist, but the junk drawer concept is hers.

Anyway, Mondays strike me as the proper time for a junk drawer purge, especially as the weekends can take a toll on storage, so here’s a string of smiles I stole from a Facebook friend. (I have criminal tendencies, you’re finally catching on to that.) Enjoy, and do something satisfying with your day. In my world, this is the first day of exploration/cleaning/sorting in our big closet, which will light me up like a sparkler… I love getting rid of stuff! Tune in later for the accountability,

Meanwhile, here’s your sign:

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Unless you have a raging masochistic jones.

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Billboard available, only smaller.

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Don’t even think about it, sparky.

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Last but not least, here’s a List of The Weird that will take me all week to check off:

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Schmaltzy, but true and worth keeping in mind:

Image by Judy Smith

The sun also rises…

24 Jan 2023 2 Comments

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It happens every morning, in my experience, and life continues upon the planet. It all comes to us unbidden, with no effort on our part, each wake/sleep cycle delivering its allotment of STUFF TO BE DEALT WITH. And we do, amazingly sometimes, we do. Imperfectly we stumble in the dark of our own ignorance, giving it what we’ve got, and we deal. Humans astound me in every direction, but most of all in our capacity for resilience and new energy in the face of NO. “No” is no kind of answer, so we press on. This staying-alive stuff isn’t for sissies.

But here we are on a beautiful winter morning, with fog hanging in the trees and people showing up to make the day happen. The girls who own the salon in the next block have pulled up in their SUVs and claimed their spots below my window. All three are young moms who do whatever it takes to juggle careers, commutes, kiddos, schools, daycares, home, family, laundry, food for everybody, every day, and my 4th-floor remove isn’t the only space between us. They’re paying a price I never had to pay, that of running my own business while raising a family, and although I could tell you hair-raising tales of woe from past sacrifices, I sit here knowing I’ve been a spoiled girl all my life and at this point I’m merely trying to absorb the lessons coming my way before I run out of time. This I know:

“A wise woman wishes to be no one’s enemy;

a wise woman refuses to be anyone’s victim.”

-Maya Angelou

The first month of the new year has already shown us that it’s going to be more of the same, so what do we do, boys and girls? Right. We deal. We deal with what comes to us until we get it right. Wish I had an easier answer, but I can’t start lying to you NOW.

Dancing my heart out here, boss, keep the music playing.

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I’ve seen other versions of the following, but this was a good laugh yesterday:

Image by Judy Smith

Of wolves and wings and sealing wax…

14 Sep 2022 Leave a comment

A thing I like about being this age and out of the work force is that nobody’s the boss of us except death and taxes. When Kim got home from PickleBall this morning I’d downed half a pot of coffee but no food yet, so he made the Saturday breakfast on Wednesday because nobody told him he couldn’t, and I like how that works out.

The downside of not having a CEO is there’s nobody here to ensure that I live my best life except me. Kim’s entitled to carefully-worded suggestions, but I’m the only boss I have and it’s exhausting. I get up by 7am or earlier most mornings, grab a mug of coffee, and sit here for the next hour catching up on news of the world while the two wolves inside me wage a battle over the daily stroll. One wolf’s all about how it’s too hot or too chilly, too windy or too still, you deserve a little break and one day off won’t hurt a thing. The other, the leaner of the two, reminds me how easy it is to break a good habit, how miserably guilt-ridden I’ll be all day if I don’t put my shoes on and go, how righteous I’ll feel telling Kim about where I went and what I saw out there in the greater world.

The wise wolf won this morning’s tug-o-war again, so chalk up another one for health and sanity, she and I have found ourselves out there trekking far more days than not since this past December. And yes, my two Canis Lupii are female, full of wisdom and experience, I only have to be careful which voice I allow through the veil in any given circumstance…

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Rodney Dangerfield had it right… no respect.

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God’s truth. Come visit, we’ll show you.

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If you’re smiling, my work here is done. Have a wonderful Wednesday and remember…

Image by Judy Smith

Let’s talk about home and comfort…

06 Jul 2022 Leave a comment

Friends will be surprised to hear that I walked to New Jersey yesterday morning. Strolled from 8th to 9th to Connecticut to New York to New Jersey, which kept me on good sidewalks and brought me out at the train station, ready for the return loop home. Went out just after 7am but it was already getting steamy, so 45 minutes’ trekking was about right. This morning I woke up later and it was already breathless outside, so I’ve declared this to be Paperwork Day (why do we still have PAPER work??), while soothing any trace of guilt with iced coffee. Oh, there’s all that laundry, too, of course, good thing I conserved energy right off the bat, so wise…

The days grow ever weirder while that other shoe takes on weight, so here’s some nonsense I saved for just such days…

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I love you, fellow weirdos, we must hang together. Or we will hang separately…

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Thomas Wolfe wrote a whole novel centered around the fact that You Can’t Go Home Again, and someone’s explanation says “If you try to return to a place you remember from the past it won’t be the same as you remember it.” I think it’s the other way around – we can’t go back because the people who never left won’t let us be anything other than the labels we wore then. That strikes me as an important fail-safe… if nothing changes over a lifetime, a society is dying, so home has to be wherever we find ourselves.

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I hope your heart feels at home today.

Image by Judy Smith

An almost-spring weekend…

19 Mar 2022 2 Comments

Good morning on an absolutely gorgeous Saturday. It’s still cool out, but temps are heading for the mid-60s by afternoon, the sun’s shining, and something that feels suspiciously akin to joy is rattling around in my heart. Kim made The Breakfast, of course, and it was perfect… of course. He’s been making life as smooth as possible for the past 18 years… and now I can’t possibly thank him enough for never giving up on a fix for the spinal pain… it’s changed everything and given me my life back. There aren’t really words for that.

THIS GUY

I have the world’s best men in my life, and on this day 52 years ago, I gave birth to the absolute best human I know, who affirms along with Kim that I have reason to have existed. Happy Birthday, John Latta. Celebrate everywhere life takes you in the coming year.

Birthday guy at Hot Betty’s for breakfast this morning…

John with hospital co-workers and good friend Lanette, on his right.
Less outnumbered… by one, thx to Mike.
Lisa and her homemade banana pudding cake. That’s a stellar start to a birthday.

Good story to go with the photo above. John says, “There was a group of ladies celebrating a birthday next to us (I thought the birthday girl was in her 20’s, but she’s 46 today!), and I offered her a piece of the cake. Their table went crazy for it, so we had enough left over that they could share in the birthday love.”

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With a one-sided terroristic war underway, and a psychopath killing as many children as his troops can find, for the sake of shock value, it’s hard sometimes to relax into what’s at hand… the life we’re privileged to live here, at least for now… hard to take joy in the smaller things without being guilt-ridden over it. But the chaos is there and we’re here, and a sanity-based approach to life tells us we can be of no assistance there and very little here. So what’s on tap for today is…

NCAA Basketball Tournament play, starting at 11am with Baylor and UNC, which leaves just enough time for a nice spa soak first. The KU Jayhawks play Creighton at 1:40, our fan-focus of the day, and then it’s endless roundball ’til the sun rises tomorrow, as far as anyone knows. You pick your escapist poison, we’re settled on ours. Which brings up a thought…

Don’t be like Pluto.

Image by Judy Smith

Information saturation…

10 Mar 2022 Leave a comment

Someone please explain to me, like I’m in kindergarten, the process by which email procreates and multiplies when left to its own devices. I was sure my various folders had been whittled down to a single page of no more than 100 emails apiece mere weeks ago, but a sobering look this morning revealed thousands of messages lurking there in the dark. It’s war, kids, the kind I can proudly stand behind: DELETE EVERY IRRELEVANT EMAIL. Fortified with Kim’s coffee, I shall do so with glee. It concerns me that they’re able to gather silently and join forces this way, but once I see them they’re done for. What troubles me is all the “not seeing,” because that has staying power. Okay… off to wreak havoc and mayhem, thus atoning for my sins of neglect, and simultaneously exorcising a few demons. Frustration comes to mind… might be a good day to work on taming that one.

Our schizophrenic late-winter weather, the rollercoaster ride collectively known as COVID, war that threatens to turn global, daily rifts and tensions among humans everywhere… it all gives me pause 🐾 🐾 . But something feels different lately, beyond the astounding fact that I’m free of nerve pain for the first time in five decades. The atmosphere is starting to feel somehow changed… the tenor of conversation among thinking people has a distinct note of hopefulness under it… the knowledge is starting to penetrate that we might not have to stand still for fascism’s creep after all. And that’s a BFD.

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Back from the Cyber Crusades, my Gmail is lighter by thousands of unopened messages, and what a rush THAT was. What with all the quiet and isolation since 2019, I really should approach such things with a measure of caution… what if the excitement had caused me to pass out? Bonus nap, you’re right!

After a few mild days in a row, we’re having a snow day, and I heard a rumor of waffles. If that happens imma whip out the Nutella and spread it right on that gorgeous Belgian baby and then settle in by the fire. The Big 12 Tournament is in progress, and the Jayhawks are on the floor at 2pm. Waffles, bacon, coffee, and a win would be perfection. And a bone-warming soak. Weather is an adventure aphrodisiac for your olds, isn’t it rich.

Speaking of old, which is where it goes if we’re lucky…

Image by Judy Smith

New week, who dis?

07 Mar 2022 4 Comments

It’s Monday, boys and girls, in a week when anything could happen. That’s true of all of them, but life isn’t always this packed to the gills with angst and trouble. Wotta world, and the ride goes on and on. I squirreled away a few things over the past few days to share with you, to mark our place at this juncture in time. Little road signs…

Let’s start with the obvious, because it needs saying:

However, having stated the obvious…

Think carefully, I’m not for everyone.

With winter dipping in every few days and layering us in white, and the pandemic just now in enough of a lull to relax protocols, it isn’t easy to fill our time, so we’re always grateful for sportsing on TV that engages our attention and sometimes emotions. Sports involve real people doing real things, and spectating is next-best to participating. Maybe some of this is on the schedule…

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Because life isn’t static and things happen, staying a little loosey-goosey about the state of the planet only adds to the Zen total. Everything has to be evaluated in terms of forever… what matters now and for how long.

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Image by Judy Smith

A humor infusion…

19 Dec 2021 Leave a comment

Another weekend bonus… everyone needs a sugar cookie with sprinkles, so here’s a buncha stuff I lifted from a site that didn’t display concern about my doing so, and no accreditation was provided at any rate. So these are the laughs, kids, pick one that makes you grin.

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Image by Judy Smith

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