Oh, damn, it feels so good to be home. 🙂 What a lovely moment, returning home to a welcoming embrace, and a wee flower on the geranium in the pot by the front door. 😀
Sometimes the simplest things matter the most.
It was a lovely homecoming. A quiet genial evening together, spent gently. A good night’s rest – finally, after days of restless slumber in a noisy hotel. (Note to self: avoid the room directly above the automatic garage door in that hotel! Lesson learned.) I woke to the smell of coffee, which is a marvelous way to wake up on a Saturday morning. I greet my Traveling Partner, already awake and getting some work done on one project or another, on his laptop. Feels so good to be home, again.
…Next week, I’ve got a business conference far away…
Looks like I’ll be at home for June. July is messy, with a holiday, followed by a few days of business travel, broken up by a week at home in between. So far I’m okay with it, and I honestly don’t think it’ll last as things go; those travel expenses add up, and at some point, I expect folks will become a lot more cautious about spending that kind of money for that sort of thing. This last week, out of a week actually in the office, I only took two meetings in an actual meeting space, the rest were still video conference calls, and of the two meetings that involved sitting down in an office? Yeah, one of those was one-on-one, and the content would just as easily been managed on a call, and the other? The person hosting the meeting still attended by video conference. lol Fairly pointless, generally, although I met some very cool (and quite expert) colleagues in person that otherwise I’d never be acquainted with; we’re in very different fields, with limited opportunity to interact or collaborate professionally. I met them in elevators, or the break area making coffee in the morning, or they just happened to grab a desk near the desk I happened to grab, myself. lol I don’t think this return to office foolishness is as “important” as it is being made out to be, frankly. I do get that businesses pay a lot for their brick and mortar spaces and would like to see those used in some way. Area small businesses used to serving the needs of busy people working in office spaces are no doubt hit hard by the prolonged lack of demand for their presence, due to empty offices, too. Those are clearly not adequate reason to return to the office, for most working people with a choice. Can’t say I blame them. Gas is costly, but it’s not about that element of commuting, really; people value having those precious hours of lifetime back for their own use. That’s just real.
Enough about why I wasn’t at home, and what purpose that serves (or doesn’t). I’m home now. 😀 Feels sooo good.
I woke once during the night. I think it was the quiet and comfortable stillness that woke me. I smiled to myself in the darkness, turned over, and returned to sleep. I woke gently, feeling calm and merry. I’m eager to get into the garden, but quickly discovered the morning is quite a chilly one, so… coffee and writing? Yes, please! 😀 Good to be home.
Dinner last night was kind of “more of the same” – fast food. It’s been days of it, but I was completely wiped out from the long trip back, so “easy” won the internal discussion over “what’s for dinner?” Looking over the pantry and contents of the fridge this morning, I definitely see myself going to the store today… no vegetables. Almost out of coffee beans. My Traveling Partner makes great iced tea, and there’s plenty, but no lemonade to mix into it, and I definitely enjoy iced tea with lemonade. I smile to myself, thinking “happy at home” thoughts.
It’s time to begin again. 😀 There’s an entire day ahead of me, and a lifetime of love.
I woke in a sweat, uncomfortable and shaking, tearing my consciousness from a nightmare that I had gotten pregnant – at 60, post-menopause – and unable to terminate my terribly risky and thoroughly unwanted pregnancy because the law had changed, and my bodily autonomy as a human being was utterly lost. My heart was pounding. I paced restlessly for a moment or two, feeling vaguely unsettled and with a persistent “uncomfortable” feeling in my guts.
I laid back down, fighting sensations very much at odds with each other; the sweats and discomfort, the fatigue and sleepiness. I felt peculiarly averse to going back to sleep. I wasn’t exactly nauseous… but I felt suspiciously as if I might feel better if I got sick and got past it.
Predictably enough, I was quite sick moments later. Something I ate apparently did not agree with me. The stressful nightmare was likely a byproduct of the combination of physical and emotional discomfort – one from whatever I ate that did not agree with me, the other from the recently leaked not-quite-official-yet Supreme Court document regarding the likely end of Roe v Wade. My physical discomfort was greatly eased by vomiting. My emotional discomfort… well, it’s no surprise that it persists.
…Tell me again why someone besides me, myself, has anything to say about whether or not I carry a pregnancy to term? I’ve chosen to be childless. Period. Seriously. I did not want to be a mother. Why would my choice be out of my hands? When I hear people spouting bullshit talking points about the sacredness of life from the moment of conception, I reliably find myself wondering how they are so easily able to overlook the sacredness of the life of the pregnant person, herself? How do they justify what is fundamentally a position that states women should be coercively required – forced – to bear a child? Forced to bring a pregnancy to term that they do not want. Forced to endure a potentially life-threatening pregnancy for months. Forced, potentially, to go through all that and the trauma of giving up a child for adoption in order to avoid motherhood? How is that acceptable?
I hear a lot of religious arguments against abortion. My thoughts on that are basically… by all means, if your faith restricts you from terminating a pregnancy, definitely do not do that, then. I get it. Your religious freedoms absolutely permit that choice for you. My religious beliefs do not in any way restrict me from choosing to end a pregnancy. My religious freedoms should ensure that I continue to have access to a full measure of reproductive medical services – including abortion. I know, it probably sounds like I am taking this damned personally for a woman on the other side of menopause… doesn’t even affect me, directly, right? I am taking this personally. Having abortion available to me ensured I was able to choose to be childless by intent. My choice. I was able to graduate high school. I was able to join the Army once I did. Both of those would have been beyond my reach, without having been able to terminate a pregnancy while I was in high school. I had birth control measures available. I used them. My birth control failed – which is not uncommon. I was fortunate to live at a time when abortion was available to me, when I needed it.
I needed to get that off my mind. Thank you. If I’ve upset you, I regret the distress I’ve caused you. Not enough to change (or withhold) my thoughts on this topic, but it isn’t my intention to cause you suffering if we disagree.
…But… can anyone tell me why it seems acceptable to tell someone that they must be forced to bear a child against their will, or potentially under life-threatening circumstances? Why is the not-yet-viable-outside-the-womb fetus “life” worthy of respect and value – but the living breathing human person with that fetus in their body is less so? I don’t get it. Like it or not, that’s really what is being proposed; forcing people who do not want to bear a child to go through that process because someone else is not okay with an abortion that they have nothing to do with at all. Yes, I’m unreasonably angry about this, and taking it personally. It feels personal.
It’s late. My guts are no longer churned up. I’m no longer sweating. My breathing is relaxed and even. It’s quiet in these wee hours, and I am alone with my thoughts in the night. I’m okay, though. No despair. Just quiet. There’s no stress to these sleepless hours; tomorrow I return home to the welcoming embrace of my Traveling Partner. I’m definitely homesick. I’m eager to be at home all through the month of June.
A yawn unexpectedly splits my face. I’m tired and sleepy. Time to try that sleep thing, again. Tomorrow is a new day, and plenty soon enough for new beginnings. 🙂
Sometimes business travel is fun. Other times it’s “just work”. Sometimes it is stressful. Other times dull and tedious. This morning, in the wee hours, awakened by acid reflux, it is… uncomfortable. And also, surprisingly noisy. lol There is a busy urban street just beyond my (unusual) first floor window. My room is near the elevators, too, and apparently directly above the gym… and the automated parking garage door. LOL This trip won’t be a quiet one, apparently.
So, here I am. Awake at 3 a.m…
When I originally woke, I went to Guest Services to see if there was an antacid available in the assorted “sundries” for sale there. Nope. Nice hook where that’s generally found, though. LOL Fucking hell. No Tums. Nothing of the kind. Well, shit. I go back to my room, and sit up awhile. That helps enough that I suspect the pillow/bed arrangement of being the cause of my discomfort. I drink some water. Maybe sitting upright for a little while will help…
…And this is where I find myself, awake in the wee hours, writing and not sleeping. Realistically, I probably got enough sleep… I crashed hard around 8 p.m. LOL
Meh. I’ll watch a couple videos, and before I know it, it’ll be breakfast time here at the hotel, and time to begin the new day in earnest. Back to work after a long weekend that has felt eternal, and wonderful… will the world have changed? Well, if I take notice of the report that the overturning of Roe v. Wade may be imminent… yeah, it just may be actually (and rather terrifyingly) different for a whole lot of people. (That’s an angry tale for another moment.)
For now, let’s just assume it will be time to begin again. 🙂
I’m relaxing with a cold glass of iced tea, as though a chilly rain had not started to fall. lol My Traveling Partner and I finished building the new raised garden bed in the front yard together this morning. I filled it with suitable growing medium from the nearby nursery. Hell, I even planted several rows of future veggies! I’m as excited as I ever have been about a new garden space. More, maybe. In fact, I got so excited and so motivated to work in the garden, that I wore myself out a bit, and now – in spite of this rather strong iced tea – I’m overtaken by yawning, and feel like having a nap. LOL I could, of course, it’s my choice. I’m choosing, at least for now, to simply enjoying this feeling…
… “Happiness”. What gets you there may be something different than what gets me there, but I’m for sure “there” right now, and it’s worth skipping a nap to just soak it in.
Happy.
Wow. Feels good.
I love having a garden beyond the flower beds. I enjoy that there is so much variety; peas, onions, and salad greens round the back, down below the edge of the deck, along the gravel walk, planted in grow bags. In the new raised bed? Well, so far some “easy win” crops: radish, daikon, carrots, parsnips, and bush beans, with plans for maybe a couple of short growing season melons, and the eggplant seedlings that are maturing on my windowsill. 😀 Yummy stir fries are going to get even yummier. Summer salads look like they’ll be fresher and more flavorful. Add to that the exercise I get being out in the garden each day doing some little task or another – it’s all “win”. So, yeah. Happy describes this feeling pretty nicely.
The thing is, “happy” is every bit as intense as my sorrows can be, but if I don’t slow down and take notice of the moment, and really savor it, drink it in, luxuriate in it, however briefly, it doesn’t “stick”. It’s as true as ever, “this too shall pass”. Our happiest moments are worth taking time for. Real time. To just enjoy the delights of life, love, and gardening. Or, um, whatever your “thing” is, I guess. Might not be gardening. 🙂 Do you.
I’m in a strange headspace this morning. It’s a long weekend. My anniversary with my Traveling Partner coming up. 11 years married. 🙂 Worth celebrating. Where would life have taken me if I had not taken this path? I don’t know, and never will know; it is the path I took, and the path I travel now. I’m okay with that.
The headlines in the news are pretty grim. Every day more terrible news about the war in Ukraine. Nearly as often some terrible family killing or murder-suicide or mass shooting or femicide or report of a child killing someone with a gun left too easily accessible is the story of the moment. If you’re reading the news in America, you’ve likely got a news feed filled with violence. It’s fairly shameful that this is who we are. (Oh sure, “not all Americans…”, but we vote, and we put the people in power who do nothing to make the changes we need to keep people safe and free. We each have a chance to do better.)
So, today I sip my coffee. I figure I’ll help out today by not killing anyone, by refraining from acts of violence against others, by embracing calm and contentment and making merry with my partner. I’ll treat passing strangers kindly and with courtesy. If I run an errand, I’ll drive gently and considerately, and I’ll refrain from flipping off stray asshats who drive like they own the fucking road and have nowhere to go other drivers. Choices. I’ll do better, myself. It’s a place to start.
The seedlings on my windowsill are doing well. Promising. New life. Fresh vegetables grown at home. 🙂 I’m excited to have “a real garden”, although admittedly I begin every gardening adventure with maximum enthusiasm and commitment and I acknowledge the variable outcomes. lol I think my own best previous gardens were the balcony garden I had in my first apartment with my Traveling Partner (herbs and roses, and later some wonderful tomatoes), and the garden I had in the garden at #59. That one was lovely – just steps away from my apartment, with water right there easily available. I grew tomatoes, carrots, and some salad greens, that I recall were delicious, but bolted quickly in the summer heat.
I rarely took pictures of my vegetable garden, and the few pictures I had were lost when #59 was burglarized (my laptop was stolen). So… here’s a squirrel visiting my container garden on the patio there.
I sip my coffee and think about my parent’s garden when I was growing up and still living at home. At the time, I felt like an involuntary laborer most weekends. The whole family would have breakfast, usually my Dad would cook. Then we’d all go out and work in the garden in the mid-morning, on weekend mornings. It was a lot of weeding, as I recall. As kids we didn’t do much of the heavy work, or planning. I had my own 4″x4″ square plot to call my own, too. I rather foolishly planted it in Jerusalem artichokes, which thrived beyond my wildest expectations, filling the bed and coming back year after year. lol Why was that a problem? No one in my family ate them. LOL There’s something to be learned there.
…There’s almost always something to be learned…
My Traveling Partner is making me a raised bed for our front yard. I’ve planned it modestly – a manageable size that I can count on myself to take care of. I’ve outlined an “L” shape that will “nest” within the edges of the flower beds, and give about a 30 inch (about 72 centimeters) walkway between the flower beds and the raised bed. I’m excited about it! It’s a very sunny spot, well-suited to growing food. The grow bags in the back are excellent for cooler weather vegetables and things that like a bit of shade during the heat of the day. I like having both. It’s not a lot of square footage in this new bed – just 20 sq ft, but I know I can manage that comfortably without help, and that matters. I get about 3 sq ft out of each grow bag (of the size I have), and the four of those give me another 12 sq ft of growing space. 32 sq ft doesn’t sound like a lot of garden, but it’s the most I’ve had since the 20 ft x 20 ft community garden plots I had back in the very early 00’s. I had two of those; they were completely beyond my ability to manage them, but I hung on to them year after year, puttering around and playing at gardening without much to show for it. I don’t think we ever actually ate any produce from my own garden there (it was mostly herbs, roses, and flowers). My greed overcame my ability. There’s something to be learned there.
So, this time, I am hoping I’ve found the right balance between ability and will, between sunshine and shade, between yearning and having, and even between vegetables and flowers. I’ve learned some things. I’m sure there’s more to learn. There almost always is.
I find myself thinking about my parents, their garden, and the things that motivated so many of their choices and practices. Their garden was not “just for fun” – they fed us from that garden. We often didn’t have a lot of cash resources, and were not “wealthy”. In fact, I’m fairly certain we were “poor” by many definitions of that word, but that garden fed us and it fed us well. It set my expectations of what vegetables taste like way too high to eat supermarket produce and be happy with that (it often tastes almost flavorless without a lot of seasonings). I miss those flavors! My parents were not “doomsday preppers” or serious survivalists, but my Dad had an interest in survival, bushcraft, and the practical details of life without “extras”. He hunted, and we ate game. I grew rabbits, and we ate those, too. We fished, and crabbed, and ate our catch. The house we lived in was in quite an ordinary residential neighborhood, crammed pretty close to other houses, but we explored the countryside through family visits elsewhere, and trips to see my Dad’s friends out in the rural areas of the state. Most of the backyard was garden. We had a complete set of the Foxfire books and I read them eagerly. There were often evening conversations at the dinner table (or in the kitchen or by the fireplace in the winter or outside while working on a project together) about “what if…?” – What if the power grid failed? What if we use up all the oil? What if there were a new ice age? What if there were a serious drought? What if there were a major food shortage? What would we do to live, survive, and thrive… if? We were encouraged to really consider it, and to develop useful skills.
I have my doubts that anyone is truly “self-sufficient”. We are interdependent, each of us contributing something to a larger whole. Family, community, workplace… it’s not just one person standing in a garden, selecting that perfect ripe tomato. Where did the seed come from? The garden tools – were those hand-crafted individually by that gardener? The water… what is the source? How much of what is being used in the garden has to be purchased elsewhere? I sip my coffee and think about self-sufficiency vs interdependence. I think about “what if”… and wonder what my own life might be like if I suddenly found myself without electricity. What if there was none to be had? (“Generators!” Sure, sure …and when the fuel runs out..?) I slide contentedly down this rabbit hole on a sunny morning, as a rather large gray cat makes his way along the fence beyond my window.
A stranger passing by, curious about what I’m up to on my side of the window.
I call out to my Traveling Partner to come look at the hefty visitor making his way along the fence so carefully. I haven’t seen this cat before. He moves on; he has things to do, clearly, and no time to waste on us.
Today I’ll finish cleaning up the aquarium and put it up for sale with all it’s parts. I’ve been slow to finish this project, less out of reluctance or sorrow than avoiding the effort involved. I’ve been working at it a bit at a time, but now the time has come to finish it off and get it gone, and reclaim that space for other purposes. Here, too, there’s something to be learned.
…There’s almost always more to learn. It’s time to begin again. 🙂