It is one of those days when I feel just blah. This cold continues to hang on. Last night I was so cold when I went to bed. The heat was cranked and I had three shirts on, flannel bottoms and thick fuzzy socks and I was still cold. Then around midnight I woke up soaked in sweat so I stripped down to just a T-shirt and bottoms. Normally I keep my bedroom around 10 C but last night it was near 20. And then after I finally fell asleep some twit was lighting fireworks and woke me up.
Anyway, today I am tried and cranky and I feel fat and blob like. I look like a stump or a sausage.
I actually had a very beautiful morning and it was warm and sunny. I decided to become a member of Unity and was given a yellow rose. Of course I cried because I have never been so loved and accepted at any church ever. Most churches want to tell you want a bad sinner and they focus on all the areas you need improvement. Unity focuses on the Divinity in all of us and celebrates that. Even when you have a bad cold and feel like a sausage.
I suppose I should post. I have been sick with a cold and have been reading blogs but its the kind of cold where it is just too much effort to comment. Its the kind of cold where its too much effort to go back and put apostrophes in the two times I typed its. Three times now.
Our weird neighbours just walked by. The never talk to anyone else on the street and keep to themselves except when starting disputes. My husband and I always wave to them but they never wave back. They also stare into our front room window when walking by. Maybe I should start giving them the bird.
Here is a picture from my kitchen window.
And here is a picture of Norbert watching his squirrels and birds. He isn’t allowed off the deck and now that he is getting to be an old cat he seems quite content to stay there.
And here is a picture of the dough from the cinnamon buns I made yesterday in my cast iron. “It’s a happy little loaf!” Bonus points if you know where that quote is from without looking it up.
And this. Last night I had a dream that I voted for Trump. This is weird in the fact that I am not American but mostly I woke up and thought WTF? But in this same dream I was stuck in a huge labyrinth type building that I could not get out of and that was filling with water. In the dream even my right leaning and very religious friend could not understand why I was voting for him.
One thing you might not know about me is I have never been very good with plants. And the plants I manage not to kill are killed by Norbert. It makes me so happy to see that my African violet has grown huge and is even ready to bloom. Her name is Ayana which is African for pretty bloom. The pencil is so you can see how big this plant is.
Norbert is acting weird. Or weirder than normal. He was just trying to hide and when I looked up and saw him he did a little hop and ran away.
I have to go. Four firefighters are going door-to-door and checking smoke detectors.
Soup is in the big cast iron pot. It’s “Chicken Tomato Black Bean Pea Buttermilk Soup”. Basically it’s all the leftovers from my fridge. It’s actually very good because I know how to make a good soup.
Yesterday I mowed the back lawn and washed some more windows with my super cleaner. 1 cup dish soap and 1 cup cleaning (10%) vinegar. Windows are the cleanest they have ever been. Today I just puttered about and did some dusting and a few loads of laundry. Beds were changed and the bathroom was cleaned. And I added another 8 people to my family tree. Those 8 people all married and had children. You would think that would only take a few minutes but the reality is it can take hours. You have to check and recheck and then check again. One error can lead to massive problems and it’s easier to get the information correct in the first place. I have made mistakes in the past that had to be unwound and it took weeks.
Well. I wrote that sometime last week and obviously walked away.
Today I scrubbed moss off the front steps and walkway because they turn into an ice rink in the winter. It came right off with my super duper cleaner. I also made Maggie Cookies. Mostly I just can’t wait for bedtime. My husband has a cold and I feel like I am getting it now.
We had a municipal election here yesterday and 4 of the 8 people I voted for got elected. I was happy about that. Our former city council was a national embarrassment with unending chaos.
Oh! Last week I went to a soap making class. It was in a home that is about 1 minute from where I live.
This is my good friend M. We have known each other for a bobillion years.
Measuring coconut oil to the exact gram.
Swirly tops for my soap.
Our finished soaps.
My friends M, K, M, and myself. They have since been cut and are now drying.
The group I attend is called We@ving Our V0ices. I am being all cryptic on purpose to protect privacy. It is a free, open group that any woman can attend who has experienced abuse or trauma. Because of the huge waiting list to get into counselling the facilitators decided to have an open group to “focus on building knowledge, sharing wisdom and strengthening support through a cycle of topics that encourage awareness rather than disclosure of personal trauma stories. The group format provides a high level of safety and containment to support the development of safety, stability and healing for women affected by violence. By remaining open it allows for changing as well as continuing membership.”
The format used is basically the same each week. There are four questions using the similar wording and only the topic word is changed. For example, last week the topic was Judgement. The first question was, “what comes to mind when you hear the word judgement?” The floor is open and women are encouraged to share their experience or knowledge. If a woman does not want to talk, that is okay. Each bullet is a thought from a woman in the group. We talk about each bullet, sometimes at length. This last week there were 9 of us plus 2 facilitators.
The next question.
And this one,
And then the last question,
We talk for an hour then take a break then do an art project. You have to know, I am not at all artistic but that’s not the point. It’s about sitting and thoughtfully thinking about the topic and words and how we feel about them. The topic of Judgement led me to the thought of Heart Centered Judgment. About how I and we as women need to judge ourselves with loving kindness, gentleness, wisdom, mindfulness, authenticity, caring, courage and compassion.
When judging ourselves we need to dig deeper, to really get to the real answer. For example, when I am angry I want to go deeper to understand why I am angry and not judge myself about the anger. Anyway, I won’t go into why I chose each word. I just did and they have meaning to me.
I now have a big box full of my art projects. I look at them when I am struggling.
This group is powerful and has helped me so much. We have women from all different backgrounds and we help each other. I have never felt judged, only loved and accepted.
A few days back I came in contact with a second cousin, twice removed. We found each other on Find-a-Grave. Yes. Finding graves is a thing. It’s something I have done for people who may live somewhere in the world and want to see a picture of a headstone. If you live in say, England, you can’t just make a trip to across the world just to see a headstone so you can put a request in and someone from FAG will go find it for you. Also, the volunteers will photograph entire cemeteries and add them to Find-a-Grave. Anyway… I had tried to link some families but made an error so I contacted the photographer and we discovered we were related. He sent me 4 pages of geneology and now I am cross eyed from adding dates to my tree. And I only finished 1/3 of 1 page. But I love it.
I just remembered something that I do. It’s another bit of information that you don’t know about me. In the picture above do you see Norbert’s teepee? In the front of his teepee is an advertisement for cat food. The thing you don’t know about me is I cut out articles or pictures of things that might interest Norbert and give them to him.
The weather here has been exceptional. It’s absolutely gorgeous. A perfect fall day. Warm and sunny but the nights are cool.
Tomorrow I am going to post at what happens at my woman’s group and some of the projects I have done.
Husband is out of town and I have been puttering about. I cut my bangs myself and they don’t look horrible. It probably would have been a good idea to go to the person who usually cuts my hair but that would mean going out. I hate going out. I also reseasoned all my cast iron which I intended to do on Saturday but didn’t get to it until today. They are currently cooling in the oven.
What else? Yesterday my son and I went out to practice his driving. He is getting very good and I will not worry about him. He is a very careful and thoughtful person. He always has been. This was the boy that would stand at the coffee table at two years old and do 100 piece puzzles. He would work on them for hours. After driving we came back to my place I had turned on Little House on the Prairie. Now, when my kids were little I could not afford cable TV so all we had were DVD’s. Little House on the Prairie were some of the DVD’s we had and we watched them over and over and over again. Even though he is an adult he wanted to watch a couple of episodes with me. See? Is this the type of person that will drive recklessly?
Our neighbour is mowing her lawn. I need to do ours. It has been raining but there’s also been a lot of sun so it’s growing really fast. It needs to be cut at least one more time before I won’t need to do it again until spring. I am fussy about the lawn. It’s the first thing you see when you look at a house and I like the lawn to look nice.
Tonight I’m going to my woman’s support group for women who have experienced abuse and trauma. I love this group. It starts with a discussion on a topic like self-care or safety or gratitude. Then we do an art project. It’s the best part of my week even though it involves going out.
Do you remember when I mentioned that my daughter is now dating a boy that she used to be friends with when they were small? His mom must have taken this picture. They are about 5 here. I look at this picture and forget how tiny she was. She looks like she is closer to 3. She was in the 3rd percentile for years. My god, wasn’t she cute? So was her boyfriend. Awww!
This calms my weary brain and aching soul. It brings this confusing life into focus. It makes this tilted world straight. Listen with headphones. If you don’t know me, this will tell you who I am more than a lifetime of blogging ever could.