writing

Still the Same

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I’ve been reading some of my first posts in 2014.  All these years and they are still true.  Some issues remain unresolved.  Some issues have simply been deleted rather than resolved. I am still busy, but have more space between activities.

One thing I can say about myself.  I am persistent.  I perceive myself as being a quitter.  But, after reviewing my earliest posts, I seem to be steadily seeking a similar scenario.  I do have the same ambitions as I have always had.  To paint, to write, to dance.

I still love time with my family.  My family has certainly expanded! The duchesses have helped me filter through things I have been holding on to.  Just this past week, our daughter and her husband bought their first house.  That is helping me filter through things, too, somehow. Of course, several items here in this house have been saved for when she had a home to call her own. 

I continue to work on building deeper friendships.  I have been trying to be more open and vulnerable with three ladies I adore.  One is getting ready for her son’s wedding; one is mourning the loss of her mother this very day; and one is missed terribly.  She and I worked together for years and only have occasional visits. 

I have some pieces of writing done.  I have one in progress.  It has begun with the death of a young woman.  I don’t even know if she fell or was pushed.  The story is still so new.  I started it in the middle of my daily journal scribbles and it needs to be transcribed on to the computer so I can continue to work on it. 

There is a table and chairs I rescued a few years ago.  They needed refinishing, but not badly enough for me to do it for myself.  That new house of our daughter’s needs a dining table. I am refinishing the table and chairs!

The holidays are nearly upon us.  Thanksgiving feasts, Christmas decorating and baking, a few gifts to do up with paper, ribbon and bows.  Some family and friends I want to see. And one fella I am very fond of is turning 60.  I look forward to celebrating his birthday.  Nearly lost him two years ago.  How precious are family ties. 

Yes, many things are still the same after all these years of writing Raining Orchids.  And the second one I wrote spoke of how much I love Rock and how much I depend on him for strength and courage and protection. 

From January 2014:

He is just over there on the tractor, clearing some brush. He is close enough to see and if I suddenly need to touch him, I can walk over to him. He was gone fishing with his tournament partner Saturday and Sunday. Sure was a long couple of days.
I am grateful I feel this way about him. We met and fell in love thirty-one years ago this month. We’ve been through some fires and some storms. We’ve been through some miracles and some magical places. Our connection, our marriage, our love has taken on a lovely patina. I cherish him and I cherish us. I am thankful.

Some things have only grown richer and more lovely. 

Forgetting

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I had a sign on my icebox for a long while a long while back. I still keep the saying close at hand, though for some reason other things crowded it from the icebox front. 

 It reads:

What really important thing are you forgetting to do?

I ask that question on many different levels.  Did I pay the fuel card bills?  Did I ask him to check the propane tank level?  Did I ask the Lord forgiveness for my recent failures of character?  Did I put water in the dog’s bowl? Am I sure I checked all the supply levels for baking Christmas cookies?

From trivial to profound and back to trivial.

One question that haunts me was asked me on the day we buried Mother.  What are you going to do with the rest of your life?  At the time, all I could think of was raising the children.  At ages 10 (nearly 11) and 12, things were just taking off.  And my father was still living and needed assistance.  The Butler sale launched that year as well.  The question didn’t mean much for a long time. 

A few years later, the children were grown and Daddy and his mother and his father, too.  From September 2003 through April 2007, there was a lot of leaving for us.  We also lost a dear friend during that time.  And Hurricane Rita blew through.  We got down to just having our jobs and the cows for the most part.

Eventually, the children married and finally a couple of duchesses came along to add glitter sparkle to our lives. Figuratively and literally! 

Still, there are some long days of not much going on.  I have been retired just past a year. He is still working.  The duchesses are too far to come and go on a regular basis.  I have some hobbies I have dabbled in through the years. I am so accustomed to not having time to really dig deep on them, I still just dabble. 

I am forgetting to dig deep.

I love to plan things.  Have my tidy little lists of things.  I passed that trait on to our son.  I have notebooks of lists.  I have spent my idle hours for thirty years making lists.  What do I list?  I have a list of plants I want for the jungle garden.  I have lists of household supplies I use so I can try to make a more efficient shopping list.  I have lists of my favorite foods.  I have a list of songs I like.  I have a list of books to read and authors whose works I want to read.  I have a list of topics for essays to write.  I spend more time and energy on my lists instead of attending the things on the lists. 

I love to sort things.  An offshoot of listing or the listing is an offshoot of sorting.  I will sort and reorganize my closets and pantries several times through the year.  I haul off stuff to the Salvation Army or bag it up for some of the teen girls at church or a friend I know would love it. I pass through the thrift store and get some more things and then go through the sifting process again.  I thought for a while I was off my rocker. 

When I look around my house, I see the results of the process.  I have several areas that show my love of tropical things.  I have book cases full of a full range of topics.  I have lovely dishes to use every day.  The walls have several original pieces of amateur art.  Some is my even my own work.  I have a modest collection of evening bags of which I plan to start using for everyday as soon as I can get my load of things I think I need to haul around with me pared down to fit.  I hear several of my besties reading this and cackling with laughter over that remark.  And he just rolled his eyes.  One of the things I get called is bag lady.  I still consider it a lofty goal to achieve.  Maybe beyond my scope. Nevertheless…….. 

I am getting better though.  I have been taking the time to read.  And yesterday, I took time to watch one of the movies on my movies to watch list.  I put in a new flower bed this summer.  I have the photos on the table and have begun the sorting process to make a photo album. (This is from the days of film style cameras.)  I have a number of digital photos I want to print and put in the album eventually.  I make time to spend with my friends and my family.  I am terrible at calling to check on folks.  I hate talking on the phone.  I would rather see someone face to face. I text painfully slow.  (I did learn how to talk to text and my phone seems to understand my accent.)  I go with him to check the cows most times. 

Nothing profound.  Just ordinary living. Working on not forgetting the really important things.  Time with him, time with the offspring, time with friends, time with my own creative muse.   Mundane things in a quiet house on a dusty dead end lane in the boondocks of Southeast Texas.