Subtitle: A Rambling Post
My outing to see Ivan Coyote exhausted me but was well worth it. I have spent the past three days recovering, mostly in bed with a bit of staggering around to get food and tea or coffee. I have some pretty delicious things in the freezer so I've had near gourmet meals which is unusual for these mini crashes. Usually it's scrambled eggs if I even have that much energy. Let's pretend I actually arranged this delicious food nicely and photographed it in beautiful lighting and posted it here. Let's pretend I am one of those lifestyle bloggers who models a perfectly gorgeous life worthy of magazine pages. Let's pretend my armpits aren't throbbing. Yeah, I know, it's one of the weirder symptoms I get. Let's move on from that and admire Matty the supermodel.
I have just taken this photo of my amaryllis blooming now despite my having planted it in late November. I got up off the sofa, picked up my camera and took a few shots. Then I sat down again feeling like I had just spent a day of physical labour.
I love this deep, dark red.
The up side to this is that it forces me to slow down and appreciate little things. I am naturally a fast paced person who is busy and just goes and goes and does and does and makes and makes. (You will find this type of multi-tasking, creative, busy person populating the staff of any given elementary school.) After two minutes of sitting down I will spot something that needs doing and hop up to do it. Or at least that is what I do when I am in remission. I am not doing that now. So I try to be grateful, or if not grateful at least to see the positive aspect of a disease that can slow me down drastically despite my intentions. My body sends me regular cease and desist orders and I have to obey. It's a prison sentence if I don't.
Let's get back to that bit where we were pretending I am a lifestyle blogger with a perfect life. The great thing about perfection is that many times it is not an absolute standard. Ask three people what the perfect meal is and get three different answers. So in order to have a perfect life there is not actually much pretending involved. All you have to do is take the life you have and declare it perfect.
Spring is coming and the birds are bonkers. I am celebrating that with two of my very favourite early spring blooms, flowering quince and viburnum with bug eaten foliage. These are from Mum's garden though I once had them in my own. The paler pink quince blossoms are from a bush I dug up and divided, rescued from a neighbour's vacant lot with permission. I gave one to Mum and kept one for myself.
As winter works its way to a close, a transitional wardrobe is required. For those days when you are feeling more than your age and looking it too, just toss on a cosy cat-scarf to really make your look polished and pulled together.
Here I will add a visual reminder that I do know how to smile. In no other way that I know of am I like Victoria Beckham, but with all my non-smiling selfies I will sure give the impression that I am aspiring to be just like her. Honestly, I do smile often. Fatigue and being self conscious in front of a camera are the main reason for all the grim looks. By the time I set the timer and get into the picture spot I completely forget that I need to smile. This smiling outfit was a trial run and I did not wear it all day. The skirt is new to me and seems like a keeper for those rare fancy occasions I may encounter. It is a very dark navy in the print, as is the tee shirt I am wearing, though it looks black in the photo. This photo was taken prior to going out on Thursday night. I am not exhausted. I have just enough energy to go out and get myself exhausted.
My life is one great big never-ending long weekend. I like to make a cup of tea and curl up with a good book and I am happy that in the past month I have been managing to read fiction. I read and loved Bel Canto, by Ann Patchett though encountered puzzling grammatical errors.
Recently I finished reading this one:
I thoroughly enjoyed it and do not feel the need to watch the CBC mini series version.
I have just begun this one and so far enjoy both the plot and Elizabeth Gilbert's style.
The last two books here are historical fiction, which I sometimes enjoy and sometimes really do not. Like any novel it depends much on whether the plot and writing style appeal to me but I have also found that I prefer historical fiction with mainly fictional characters and the characters who really did once exist only minor figures in the plot. I attempted The Many Lives and Secret Sorrows of Josephine B and could not finish it. My dislike of the book seems to have involved both a lack of engagement in the writing style and the characters as well as a vague discomfort with a historical figure as the main character.
A pleasant weekend pastime is to compose a brief poem:
Taking Out The Garbage
I walk the waterlogged-worm- strewn driveway.
On the long, slow return from the bins
bare feet in rubber boots make fart-like noises.
I didn't say it would be a good poem.
It is late Sunday afternoon now, though I slept until 12:30 so I am a bit disoriented when it comes to time and it feels like it should be around 10am. I am looking forward to my daily game of online Scrabble with my dearest friend and it's time to go and make myself a cup of tea. Matty is lying beside me purring happily. She has been with me for three weeks now and has settled in so well. We are a good match. I am a woman who needs a cat companion in her life and Matty, a cat in her senior years who needed relief from the stress of an unfortunate circumstance. When I go into the kitchen to make tea she will follow. She will talk to me the whole time, telling me of her dire need for meat and how it has been positively hours since she had any. I will pick her up and she will snuggle against my neck. I will carry her around like that as I make the tea. We are happy.