I still don't have a lot to say about what's going on deep inside. Me 'n' TheBrains are working on something that's not ready for public consumption. I've had a lot of quality time with my doctors, getting pro-active with some old lady issues. Even Art has been in a private, scattered-feeling, learning mode. And there has been springtime. Green green green everywhere.
This is the greenest spring we've ever experienced because this year we have GRASS. Grass out the side door. Grass in the back yard. Grass where the pine trees used to be and the ants flourished in their subterranean landscape. Even some grass out front where the beech and oak tree compete for nourishment with stunning success and the dogs like to dig holes. This grass cost us a bundle. I'd been asking for it for decades. DH fought me at first, then dragged his feet, then finally agreed to consult some professional grass guys - put it off a year, finally sat with the Grass Guy (and me) in the living room, listening to a second spiel about broad leaf weeds and shade seed mixtures, and, by the look on his face, was about to back out again when I asked "What kind of discount could you give us if we paid the whole thing up front?" Always a sucker for a bargain, the man capitulated and we at last have a grassy yard - suitable for walking barefoot, lying on your back and gazing up at the big sky, setting up the croquet course, watching puppy dogs squirm on their backs to scratch itches with green blades. Best of all, it's perfect for sitting on a little brick patio at lunchtime, just gazing at spring oozing its way into our lives, feeling the pulse of life thrum all around us.
So - I have been active, but not visibly productive. I am in Jack Horner mode - with lots of stuff going on inside me but needing to sit in my corner fooling around with that pie - till I'm ready to pull out the plum.
LOL - and wallowing in metaphors.
This week was the last of the doctor visits with a fantastic report about reversing osteopenia and NOT shrinking any more. I don't have to get another bone scan for 5 years. That was a happy dance experience. And the physical therapy for my arthritic hip is working. Best of all - knowing which uncomfortable symptom I need to work through and which I need to pamper has made me much more confident about exercising. The step count on my fitbit has soared.
Beloved friends/family have recently purchased a beach house and this week we tooled down the highway to visit them in their paradise. She doesn't even swim and never gets in the ocean but absolutely loves the beach. Something about it relaxes and unwinds her in a way that nothing else does. We've talked about it for years and when she called me, excitement flowing through her voice, to tell me about it the first words out of my mouth were "I expect an invitation" and her answer was "How about the week of April 20?"
We couldn't spend a whole week there - but we did get in 3 lovely days of sand and surf and walk-walk-walking on the shore. My idea of a perfect beach vacation goes something like this:
wake early and walk to the beach
back to the house for a leisurely breakfast
If it's warm enough - get into the ocean up to your chest and stand there letting the waves lift you up and down, up and down, up and down.
If it's not warm enough - walk miles along the shore
back to the house for lunch
Back to the ocean for walking or standing
back to the house for a communal meal that lingers on into the night
Early to bed
That's ALL I want to do at the beach. No kite flying. No surfing. No shopping. No sight seeing. Nothing. Just being. And if I can do several days of it - I know I'll come home looking 10 years younger. LOL - which - at least right now I FEEL like I look.
We meandered our way down and poked our way back home this week and I bracketed this 3 day excursion with the city doctor visit on Monday and a Historic Garden Week tour of lovely gardens in Middleburg, VA with my garden girlfriend. In fact, none of the houses were even in Middleburg but we ate lunch there - a tiny Federal town just outside of D.C. The land all around is nothing but green folds of the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mts., delicately landscaped by people with lots of money who love a beautiful home with elegant views. My GF and I putted around at about 40 mph between one stately home and another and felt like the whole landscape was a garden tour.
Historic Garden Week was canceled last year and not every garden club held a tour this year. The crowds were smaller too, as would be expected, and was mostly older folk who had all been vaccinated. People were kind and considerate and thoughtful about personal space and everyone wore a mask when indoors. Mostly, though, we spent our time outside.
So now I am back home again - with my bubbling pots of creativity awaiting my attention in the studio. When something is ready to display, I'll be back to share with you. TheBrains are really excited about things right now - but all three of them are adamant - this is oven time, not serving time.
Cheers to one and all.