Archives for category: Healthy Living

Prices have been going up noticably since the election, and longer. They rarely go down. Some of this is due to human greed. Sometimes it’s about demand for a limited supply. Sometimes it’s about chaos and uncertainty, and regulatory bullshit. There’s always someone making money off of rising prices, though it may not be who we assume it is.

Recent price of blueberries. I am waiting impatiently for the blueberries in my garden.

I’m as frustrated and angry as anyone else over the weird petty and destructive policy making coming out of Washington DC these days. 61 (almost 62) and I’ve never seen the bullshit quite so deep. We have failed to elect a competent, skillful, effective government (unless your goal was to bring about the decline of Democracy altogether). It’s pretty horrific. I’m not sure what everyday folks were expecting – or how they were played so easily by power-seeking billionaires.

…Still…

Life goes on. Mostly pretty comfortably routine, moment to moment. I’m not personally reliant on the market fluctuations, beyond how such things affect the prices of groceries and gas (and they definitely do). I have been spending less with greater care, like a lot of people. It’s necessary. Instead of steak, we have chili. Instead of dining out, we cook at home (which is healthier anyway). Instead of going to a distant specialty market for some interesting ingredient I can’t get locally, I use a recipe that doesn’t require exotic ingredients at all. Choices are being made every day. I’m still choosing to live well, as much as I can, but I’m choosing to do so more affordably. It’s clearly necessary, and I may as well get really good at it. Soon enough things like oranges and bananas may become seasonal, coffee may become a luxury for the wealthy, and dining out impractical due to the lack of restaurants still in business.

… Sorry. I’m being a bit gloomy, eh? I’m in a ferocious amount of pain today and it may be coloring my thinking. I’m just saying, maybe it’s time to embrace simpler things and more affordable pleasures, disconnect from the Internet and social media, go outside, and exist in the real world among real people, and be less dependent on so many systems thoroughly outside my own control? I do remember a life before the Internet existed at all… A time when bad news didn’t travel as far or as fast, and it was more difficult to deceive or influence an entire population. I mean… I think I remember that world. Certainly there were fewer billionaires and they weren’t straight up buying the fucking government for their own benefit.

I stretch and sigh, and remind myself to be here, now, and let that shit go.

An excellent pot of chili, and an affordable hearty meal.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think about the romaine lettuce and bok choy growing in the garden. I think about the radishes, carrots, and spinach sprouting in neat rows, and the onions and leeks standing tall in their corner of the garden. I feel myself relax. What matters most? How can I best care for hearth and home and family? It’s important to do more than exist in difficult times. It is helpful to act, to choose, and to create the life I want to live and the world I’d like to live in. Yes, there are surely assholes, nitwits, and idiots literally everywhere, but I don’t have to hang out with them, or allow my life to become about them. I’m free to choose differently.

It’s raining this morning. Not a hard rain, just occasional sprinkles, but the wind is blowing like those rain drops have places to be, right now. lol I don’t let it stop me from getting a walk in, this morning, in spite of the pain I’m in. This morning it’s both the headache and the arthritis. I deal with it, and walk on, grateful to walk another mile. I walk with my thoughts to my halfway point and stop for a little while, to write and reflect and watch dawn become a new day.

I think about ignorance and failure for some little while, and ponder all the many things I don’t (and possibly can’t) know. It’s a good time to buy books and read more. I often find inspiration and even real hope between the pages of a book. My own journey suggests that reading may be one of the most valuable skills a human primate can develop and use. I’m proud of the small library of excellent books I’ve accumulated over time. I’ve read nearly all of them, with some exceptions (some of the books my Traveling Partner owns are distinctly outside my areas of interest), but I cherish even those; they represent more to learn and know. They are well-chosen, well-written and purposeful.

I smile to myself. My book wishlist is huge. I definitely don’t have space for all of them, but… I’ll continue to add to the books I own. How to cook things. How to make things. How to survive things. How to garden and how to fight tyranny. How to think and how to paint. How to listen and how to love, and books about why all those things matter. I sigh contentedly thinking about books and gardening, and what it means (to me) to live a good life. The wind blows, tossing the trees from side to side. The dense gray clouds overhead don’t appear to move at all, they are a smooth homogeneous mass other than the strip of blue sky peaking through near the eastern horizon.

I finish my writing, and get to my feet. The clock is ticking, and it’s time to begin again.

The soft drizzle stopped at daybreak and I stepped out of the car onto the trail. This local trail passes alongside a big parking lot, empty at this hour, and through a grove of oaks trees, wrapping around vineyards, and curving around those to head along a creek in a forested space. It’s a pleasant walk, partially lit, mostly paved. This walk is quite local and convenient, managing to feel remote in the very early morning, due to the solitude. Dog walkers and other people getting some miles in generally don’t begin showing up until well past sunrise. It’s nice to have the trail to myself.

One moment of many.

I walk with my thoughts until I reach the bench at my preferred halfway point. I sit awhile to listen to the birds, and watch daybreak become dawn. The dense clouds overhead are moving by quickly and there is a hint of a breeze. The blue gray of the clouds hint at more rain, and the bits of blue sky that show through tease me with the potential for afternoon sunshine, later. I sigh quietly, contentedly, and for a moment I am lost in thoughts of my garden and forgetting the pain I am in. It’s a chilly morning and my arthritis is already complicating my experience. I don’t focus on it, and for the moment it fades into the background.

It’s a Monday morning. A work day, still. I frown, wondering how some people can view life through a lens that defines good quality of life as “employed”, unable to understand how much more there is to living than working to acquire enough money just to pay for the basics. lol I’d certainly rather be sipping my coffee and planning some other sort of day. I’ve got plenty of things to do that aren’t work at all!

… I’d rather be in the garden, or reading a book, or painting, or laughing over coffee with a friend, or catching up on the housework, or enjoying the companionship of my beloved Traveling Partner, or walking miles on new trails, or visiting distant old friends, or sipping coffee in the garden listening to birdsong, or just about anything else besides swapping hours of my life and energy for a fucking paycheck… I’d have retired in 2001 (at 38), if I could have afforded to…

…Hell, I’d retire today, if this paycheck weren’t 100% required to pay the bills. 😂 I wouldn’t hesitate for a minute; I’ve got plenty of other things to do that bring me immense joy (they just don’t happen to pay the mortgage, gas, or for groceries).

My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting. It’ll be nice to work from home today. Maybe I’ll get some time in the garden on a break? A soft rain begins to fall (again) and I’m grateful to have worn my rain poncho. I chuckle to myself as I get to my feet. The clock is ticking and it’s time to begin again.

I stop along the trail for a message from my Traveling Partner about a housekeeping detail. I’d rather it would have been a greeting or a love note, but it was not. It was a complaint (phrased as a request for action). It’s not an unreasonable request, not at all, and I add it to my list of shit to do without further discussion.

It’s a new day. What will you make of it?

Once upon a time, I was often the most negative person in most groups or conversations. I was cynical, irritable, easily angered, frustrated, and disappointed with people and circumstances, and I found very little joy in life. I complained a lot, about a lot of things, often. I told myself I was funny but that couldn’t have been much fun to be around. I sip my coffee and reflect on how much less often I complain about things these days and how much joy and contentment I find in life, generally. I’m in a very different place. (It took work and practice to get here.)

It isn’t that there is actually less in the world to complain about (I mean, seriously? We’re basically watching the world burn). I don’t find value in complaining as a form of communication, in my relationships. It has its place, I suppose. The negativity of it grates on my nerves. There are better ways. Kind frankness and gentle words are more comfortable to receive and more pleasant to act upon, day-to-day. My Traveling Partner, long ago, asked me to be less negative, and since then I’ve walked a very different path – and I’m glad I did (although it turned out he meant something different by it). I enjoy my life so much more. That’s the thing about negativity; it’s emotionally corrosive, and undermines joy, limits satisfaction, and creates discontent. Who needs that?

I get it, though, it’s so easy to be negative about unpleasant experiences and circumstances. So satisfying to complain – like picking at a scab (and it has about as much real value). A constant stream of negativity and complaining isn’t pleasant to be around, though, and it may result in the loss of relationships or connections with people who just don’t have the energy or will to endure it. Something to think about, eh? Certainly my own relationships have improved greatly since I gave up chronic complaining as a “feature” of my character. I still make an occasional complaint or negative observation; I’m very human. I don’t live my life in that place, emotionally, though. Complaining rarely improves anything; it is action that creates change. I get more done by embracing change, taking action to make my life what I most want to live, and by seeking out joy. It takes far fewer harsh words and frankly just feels better as an experience. I didn’t change the world; I changed the way I experience it. Worth it.

Walk on. It’s not personal.

I smile to myself. I’m having my own experience. It’s a lovely morning. I get to my feet and back on the trail. It’s a good day to begin again.

Contentment and resignation are very different things. I sip my coffee, wondering how much the price of coffee will go up, and whether I will find it worth it to pay that price, or whether I may prefer to give up coffee? It’s an interesting thought. I think, too, about my garden and the joy of being in the garden, among the flowers, veggies, and herbs. It is an endeavor that brings me great joy, connection to my life and self, and deep satisfaction (and occasional frustration). My little house in the ‘burbs isn’t fancy, but I’m fortunate to have this place to call home. Am I “settling” for something that is less than ideal? Maybe, but it’s enough (for most values of “enough”), at least it is for me. That’s something.

My garden view from a favorite chair.

I don’t live a life of “affluence”. Do I need to? I don’t think so. I have “enough”. More than enough, mostly. Would more really be better? Have I “settled”, or am I simply content with things as they are, more or less? What more do I need beyond the garden I’ve got and the sunny days ahead? I smile to myself thinking about the new raised beds my Traveling Partner has agreed to build for me. They will be a lovely addition to my veggie garden, and an opportunity to grow more tasty fresh produce. I’m still learning, always, and I think a bit more room to grow is a good next step. I think about the flower beds, and whether to split up the oldest primroses and separate the clumps to plant more of them further along the walkway. It’s an idea I enjoy. My Traveling Partner suggested it, and he so rarely involves himself with the life of flowers that I’m inclined to go ahead with that out of pure joy and appreciation that he made the suggestion.

…It’s almost time to plant summer flowers…

…It’s always time to pull some weeds…

Is the world in chaos? Sure. Yes. Definitely. The garden brings me a lot of peace and joy in spite of that. I plan to spend more time there. Healthy work with lovely results. The roses are doing well, and I’m eager to see them bloom again. The lavender is taking hold and already putting out new green. Radishes, carrots, spinach, peas, and chard are coming up – the first Spring seedlings. Potted flowers are sprouting, too. Spring brings me so much hope.

A friendly visitor to my garden.

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts of the garden in Spring time. I smile thinking about the blue jay that showed up the very first Spring that we had the raised veggie bed. He was young that year, and so curious about what I was up to. He has come back every year, and sometimes stops on the edge of the bed, while I work, to eye my activities curiously, and follow me from branch to branch among the trees as I work in the flower beds. He comes quite close, and sometimes talks to me (I don’t speak blue jay, but I’m not sure he cares at all). When I turn up grubs in the veggie bed, I leave them out for him. He politely waits until I turn my back to eat them, and no longer flies away with each one, he just stands right there near me, so long as I am careful not to move too quickly or make too much noise. He delights me.

Life in my garden – it doesn’t feel like I’m “settling” at all. There are verbs involved. Work to be done. My results vary. My plans don’t always have the result I intended. Still, there are flowers there, and hope, and on a sunny Spring morning it’s hard to find anything wrong in the world, from the vantage point of the garden. It’s a nice resting place on life’s journey.

I sip my coffee and get ready to begin again…

My head aches. I woke with it. I allow myself the luxury of assuming the national news coming out of Washington DC is more of the same terrifying crazy destructive billionaire greed-driven bullshit that will cost millions of good people of modest means their livelihoods, or possibly their lives. I don’t bother looking at it. I sigh quietly and look to my mental health and survival.

There are verbs involved. Seedlings to thin. Weeds to pull. Practices to practice.

I think about my garden. I’ve got plans to add another raised bed, and to put in the effort and care necessary to produce a significant amount of our food. It may ultimately be actually necessary. I’m expecting imported produce to become ridiculously costly very soon. I remind myself to consider joining a local farm co-op, too. I’m fortunate to live in an agricultural area, and there are multiple options. I’d keep a couple chickens if I had room to do so, but I don’t. I’ve kept chickens (and once a turkey), best eggs I’ve ever had. It would be worth the effort if I had the space.

I think about time spent in the kitchen, and how rewarding home baked bread and cookies and snack cakes are. Time consuming, too, and I’m often so tired that it’s hard to imagine doing even more, but it may simply be necessary.

Simple pleasures, lasting memories.

Go fewer places, spend less money, read more books, and enjoy simple pleasures; I feel fortunate that these are options that are both effective and (for me) pleasant. I sit with my thoughts about sufficiency and sustainability, and the many survival crafts I learned at home. I’ve got a new appreciation for the things my parents taught me as a kid about getting by in hard times.

Repair, re-use, recycle… getting more out of less may become something urgently necessary for a lot more people, just to get by. I sigh over my coffee – a luxury I may see myself giving up, depending on how tariffs hit coffee imports.

Quite a lot has gone into getting from “there” to “here”. 🙂

Are you worried too? Probably a good idea that we (as a nation) stop voting grifters, criminals, cheats, and unqualified nitwits into office, you know? This isn’t a partisan concern. It’s an ethical concern. It’s a matter of character, the character of our nation. People out for their own interests and focused on personal gain exist in every party. You can choose differently. That’s not really what I’m focused on this morning. I’m not telling you what to do with your vote or your voice. I’m just thinking about getting through this crap for at least the next four years, supporting my family, enjoying life with my Traveling Partner, tending a productive beautiful garden, and reading more books – especially any books that people in power think I ought not read. lol Buy books while you can (yes, it could get that bad, though I hope very much that it doesn’t).

Read banned books. Read controversial books. Think critically.

I sip my coffee, really tasting it. I think gratefully about the next hot shower I take, and consider putting in the effort to make a batch of shower fizzies, and wonder if I put the ingredients in storage, or just tucked them into a corner somewhere? I think about baking bread this weekend, and making jam this summer. I don’t really like to work so hard, not gonna lie, but I do like to live well.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate awhile listening to the robins cheerily greeting the new day. The sun is rising. It’s time to choose a path and walk it. It’s time to begin again, and the clock is ticking.

One step at a time, eyes on the horizon.