Thanks for the thoughtful and thought-provoking comments in response to my last post. I’m not done with this topic (of responsible consumerism in all its complications) yet, and I hope to chat about it with you again soon.
Meanwhile, however, I’m stuck on the couch with a nasty cold and cough, although I’m going to do my best to get out for a walk today, my fourth day sipping massive quantities of ginger tea (seriously, I think I’ve chopped half a pound of the spicy root!). Distracting myself by checking my blog archives to see what I was doing at the beginning of March in years past, I thought perhaps you’d be interested as well — how my life has changed in the six years since I posted this. I really was fortunate to have lived in such a wonderful spot, and yes, I do miss it occasionally. . . .
March 2nd, 2014 (see the original post, with all its comments, by clicking on that link.
We’re in Vancouver now, since Friday, a rather whirlwind weekend of lunch with my sister, dinner with my daughter’s family, a long, long run, a night at the opera, a visit to my mother-in-law today if the snow slows down. . . .
But I have a reserve of sleep and rest to draw on because . . .
A week ago Friday, my husband and I rode the boat “to town” for a yoga class, and that afternoon, my good friend Alison stopped by for a glass of wine and a lovely catch-up chat. From then, until Thursday — six whole days! — when I went into town for another yoga class, I stayed home, going out only for a run or a walk or to shovel the walk or fetch in firewood.
And it was glorious!
I’m not sure how or why I got so tired (although I suspect that training for a marathon may play a small part; and taking work home every weekend might play another; and losing sleep to anxiety dreams yet another ), but I ended up asleep by 10 every night and sleeping through until 6 most mornings. And I complemented that night-time sleep with a nap most afternoons.
Yes, I did some marking, and I read a fair bit of literary criticism to prepare for the next few weeks of classes. I ran 2.5 hours Saturday, another hour each on Tuesday and Wednesday (in my YakTraks), and took a good long walk on Sunday and Monday. Paul was home until Wednesday morning (and he made the trips to town for groceries, fitting in extra yoga classes on the way, stopping at a favourite coffee shop to read the paper, stretching out his away time to leave the house quiet for me, lovely thoughtful man that he is).
I cooked, I knit, I watched far too much TV on Netflix and iTunes (The Good Wife, Call the Midwife, Downton Abbey). I took photos, I blogged. I played CDs I hadn’t listened to for ages and ages and wondered how I could have denied myself this pleasure simply because I felt too busy.
And after having tucked it all away six months ago, I got my Illustrated Journal and my pencil and pen and watercolours and brushes out again. I found a little space for them, in both a literal and a metaphorical way,
I cast about for a subject,
and realized I had one right in front of me. . . .
My skills as an artist are obviously very limited (do pop over and see what Lorrie’s done with her far superior skills, having taken my friend Alison’s course on the Illustrated Journal — scroll down to the second entry). But I hope this little sketch is going to remind me how important it is to make time for unwinding, for breathing, for making space. Making time for making space . . . I tend to berate myself if I’m not “doing” — I feel guilty, accuse myself of laziness. But sometimes the body and the mind just need recharging. Puttering is productive in its own uncanny way. A lesson I keep relearning.
I was surprised, quite honestly, at how loath I was, even at the end of a week, to leave my home, to re-enter the world, even though I was headed, Friday morning, to Vancouver. First stop, lunch with my lovely, lovely sister at Le Crocodile, a little habit we’re getting into, every couple of months now, a habit I love. Opera Saturday night. A chance to do my long Saturday morning run over far more interesting terrain than our little island can offer.
Still, part of me wonders how much longer I could have absorbed the creative quiet of my little nest. Part of me knows that I unplugged from the charger with the battery not completely topped up.
A very good start, though.
What about you? Are you content with your own company for long? Or would five days’ isolation drive you stark raving you-know-what?
Now, back to March 3, 2020, but if you’re interested in peeking further into my blog archives for early March, here’s 2008 and 2011. Honestly, it’s a bit odd having all that data available to look back through, different again than looking through either an old journal or an old photograph album, not just because text and images are brought together, but also because I can see my consciousness of you (although you were different then as well, of course) as I decide what to post each day. And behind the words and the images I’ve posted, I get glimpses of what is not there, but they’re very shadowy, ghostly even. Hmmmm. . . Perhaps I’ve been drinking too much ginger tea. 😉
Hope you enjoyed the detour back through the years, and I also hope that I’m feeling well enough soon to post something new for you by the end of the week. The rest of those sketches and Italian outfits, and something else that I think you’ll enjoy, a contribution by a reader and regular commenter here, someone who’s doing something adventurous in her (very recent) retirement. . . . Coming soon, to this very space. . .
for now, though,
xo,
f
So sorry that you are sick and hope you get back to feeling well soon. Both our grandbabies are sick with colds but we are going ahead with birthday celebrations for the grandson who turns 11 years old today!
Also voted in the Democratic presidential primary today. Jeez what a mess things are here.
Meanwhile we are stocking up on shelf stable and frozen foods as well as hand sanitizer, elderberry zinc lozengers, disinfectant wipes and masks for the coronavirus epidemic. No confirmed cases in our area but hubby is taking it seriously, as am I.
Thanks for posting even though you are feeling under the weather. Feel better soon!
Lozenges not "lozengers" – I need to proofread.
slf
Action packed post. Sounds like you need more R&R to get that cold resolved. Our election has been quite the ride. Also beginning to see a few people walking around with masks in Massachusetts. The virus seems to be raging afar. How is your daughter in Italy? Feel better soon. Susan
How beautiful your island home was, Frances. Perfect place to go to ground. I do the same. Retreat from the world for a few days, then make a "re-entry", so to speak. I probably do this more than I should.
Lovely to see your illustrated journal and the water colour sketches from that time. Funny that you should say that about being able to look back at our old blog posts, past the curated words and images at what has NOT been said. I've stopped keeping a regular journal altogether since I started blogging. I use my journal for notetaking and research now. Somehow I find it easier to write for the blog than to keep up my journal.
Hope the ginger tea works its magic. Stu and I are still battling residual colds. Darned things seem to be on a cyclical path. I think spring sunshine will cure all though. And I'm going to keep telling myself that!
Hope you feel better soon you are doing all you can to get on top of that cold.
The sun is shining here today and although the wind is brisk it feels like Spring. Hope it lifts your spirits.
A lovely blast from the past in which I was most surprised to find a link to my blog. I clicked on it, and read a blast from my past, and pondered about how much has changed since then. I'm sure you feel the same. I do hope you feel much better very soon.
SLF: Belated Happy Birthday to your Eleven! Yes, there are messes all around, so it's good to have something that sweet to celebrate.
Susan: Our Italian crew are fine if a bit frustrated about some of the overreaction. . . So hard on so many businesses, and now with the schools shut, you can imagine parents scrambling for day care. . .
Sue B: Yes, it was such a good place to hunker down and restore. . . I haven't had as long or frequent engagements with colds this winter as you, but this is my second bout with a cold, added to being taken down by Noro, all in about three months. I've had enough! 😉
Hostess: Thanks! We had sunshine yesterday as well, very welcome. Grey skies today, but I do believe Spring is arriving. Glad to hear you've been celebrating your birthday in style.
Lorrie: It's odd, isn't it? So close and yet so distant, that time. . . .
What a fascinating look back, never thought of doing that. Bet you don't miss "taking work home every weekend" or "anxiety dreams". I too sometimes miss my big front and back yard with the birds and garden, and even more our blue Aga. This has been a hard winter for colds and flu, wishing you a good restorative gingery recovery.
A friend just called from Toronto; t at the Costco where where she shops there where hordes ("like Christmas Eve", she said) buying huge amounts of toilet paper and canned goods.
So lovely to see inside your former home – all those jewel-bright colours of cushions, curtains and paintings. It seems very stylishly Canadian somehow! And plentiful bookcases. It's always perplexing to see homes in magazines without a single book.
So sorry to hear about your cold. They are the nastiest of things. I had my first cold for about 4 years last spring and did not enjoy the experience.
Our minds and bodies do need space just to "be". A hard thing to learn after a lifetime programmed around cramming in as much mental and physical movement as possible.
In a hilariously Scottish way, the empty shelves here are of baked beans in tomato sauce and oat flakes for porridge! I am getting very cross with people panic buying hand sanitiser, when if we all bought sensibly there would be enough to go round. Likewise with masks, which are not effective for the general population, and I won't be buying any, even if they were available. It's health professionals who need mask stocks. I support the stance of the French government, which has requisitioned all stocks for allocation to health workers and key staff.
Duchesse: Nope, I don't mind that part at all. Sometimes my beach, my garden, my neighbours. . . but then I remember the tricky winter travel and the delight of having grandkids nearby. . . Yes, that stockpiling out of fear — my daughter described some of that happening in Italy the first few days, but it sounds as if they're adjusting quickly. I hope we do as well.
Linda: That truly is hilarious. An Instagrammer I follow showed an image of shelves that demonstrated Italians' pasta preferences (the smaller kind, mostly used for soups, were left on the shelves). . . Scots will have baked beans and oat flakes 'til '21. . . .I'm not buying masks nor hand sanitiser (although perhaps if I had, I wouldn't have this cold 😉
I was just thinking how odd it is now to have an online journal with thoughts and images from over 10 years ago.
And I remember your island place and only wish I'd made it north in time to see it in person!
So fun to see your island home!