More Tropical Living

For my entire memory, I have loved tropical things. Seas, jungles, birds, fish, flowers, foods. My Granny Sally made me a “ta-ta” out of a jungle print of leaves and animals backed with brown corduroy. I still have it. It is one of my treasures.
My mother used a queen sheet to cover the opening to the living room to allow the window unit to cool that room while we watched television in the evenings. It was also an African animal jungle print. It hangs in our house a few feet from where she used it.
Banana trees and elephant ears have always been among my very favorite plants. The exotic mimosas that populate my part of Texas and bloomed at my Granny Arie’s house are dear to my heart. Rich man’s grass aka pampas grass is another favorite of mine.  I am accumulating some things.
I have been working again toward a tropical garden. I am making great progress. I did not expect my dear husband to assist the way he has. He has given me generous gifts toward it.  He has encouraged me and offered real labor assistance often.  I am very grateful!
The palm tree he bought me years ago seems to have finally decided to put on some height. Its growth spurt has symbolic meaning for me. I am finally creeping out of my dormant state and into a new period of growth as well, it seems.
Before next week’s post, I will turn 49. Nearly half a century. I intend to live the next half a century being kinder to myself, truer to myself. Growing myself into the fullness of my being and growing my garden into the fullness of a jungle garden that lingers from the daydreams of my childhood.  It is my intention.

Trivialities

My son and his wife are enroute to Hawai’i to live for a couple of years.
Exciting and heart rending. We will miss them very much. I will not even try to contemplate Christmas.
And yet, all I need is a plane ticket to Maui and a few dollars spending money. Another trip to paradise.

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The move for them meant breaking up housekeeping. A few things went to a storage facility, a few things to my house, a few things to her mother’s house. A lot sold and tossed. A few suitcases loaded up to take with them.
For me, it meant pulling things out of my closet in the back room to make room for storing their things. My things I procrastinate on dealing with. It is all piled on the dining table I recently received from him. And on the floor, and down the hall. Actually, the things down the hall I have already picked out to go to the donation bin.
I am reviewing each item and either tossing, giving away or processing into a completed project. Some things need a little paint. Beads and shells and string need to be made into necklaces. Fabrics need to be made into dresses or curtains. I am determined to be finished before my birthday on the 20th of this month. If I don’t get it done, it goes.
The only thing that bothers me is the thought of my fabrics. I love fabric. I do not have a large pile, but I sew very slowly and am concerned I will lose some yardage due to my tight deadline.
Seems like a very silly thing to be concerned with in light of other matters. But, I need to have something to do. I have to be careful to keep myself a little distracted without evoking an emotional meltdown. I cannot concentrate enough to read non-fiction and dare not read fiction with its artificially stimulated emotional response issue.
So, I will allow myself to wallow in my trivial pursuit of empty shelves and vacant drawers. One of my favorite lines, “I travel light”, motivates and inspires me. Someday. Perhaps.