FLOWERS, JAM AND PICKLES

This morning (Wednesday), when I went to post on Facebook, I wanted to include a photo and no longer use the widow crying one because while I may be a widow, I’m choosing to no longer cry. So, I posted a photo you’ve probably already seen of my purple poppy. Looking out the window, I decided I’d go outside and take a photo of each and every bloom currently available…just so sorry some of the great ones are already gone.

Beginning today, I’ll include a photo of a flower and explain what it is, that is if I do know. If I’m unable to identify, I’ll say so and perhaps someone else can tell me what it is that’s living in my garden. For today, I’m including a photo of a pea vine blossom. The vines have been growing like crazy and I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to get any peas, but the few blossoms I found today gives me hope. Now, if the squash and tomatoes would just get busy too, I’d be very very happy with my sort of green thumb.

Haley came today, but was only here for about an hour. So many of the boxes out of the further reaches of the garage attic had rat poop in them, that for the most part, we deemed the contents to be garbage. Next week, we’ll make a trip to the King County Recycling and Transfer Station. Besides what we’ve piled up, there are other items about the place that could take that trip too, so I’d best be busy gathering them up and adding to the pile.

Last week I was amazed to see the raspberries were getting ripe…in fact some of them were already too ripe. I picked then and then again today and now have a gallon freezer bag full that I’ll use to make jam some time this fall. That’s probably the only jam I’ll make. I still have one jar from last year’s raspberries and should probably send it home with one of the sons because I would take me a year or more to get through a pint jar.

In another six weeks or so, it will be time to make dill pickles. Last year, I had three of my friends over and did a tutorial on how to make dill pickles. I doubt we’ll be able to do that this year, so I hope they can pickle on their own…no pun intended. I’m also going to find a new place to purchase the pickling cucumbers. Last year, we all pretty much bought from the same place, but there were a lot of the cucumbers that were bad after soaking overnight in cold water. That place may be less expensive than, say Yakima Valley Fruit Market, but I think I’d rather pay a bit more and have the majority of my cucumbers go into jars rather than yard waste.

          Well, I don’t know about you, dear readers, but I feel as though perhaps I’ve lost may way with my blog. I sit down and don’t seem to have a theme to follow. I no longer want to write about John or about being a widow, but it seems as though I’m just sort of typing out whatever’s at the top of my mind. I feel rather that I’m not really providing anything anyone wants to read or that has any kind of message. Maybe future blogs are going to be about the photo of the flower I include and not much else. I guess we’ll have to see

JUNE ENDS, SUMMER BEGINS???

It appears June is going out on a gray note. The radar on my phone indicated there were no rain clouds this morning when it was time to walk, but there were definitely tiny droplets in the air. I guess misty rain like that doesn’t show up on radar, but it does make you damp. I don’t know about anyone else whose lived the majority of their lives in this area, but this June definitely reminded me of June months in my youth. It was always rainy and damp, but with the advent of July, the sun came out and summer arrived. Since the weekend, for the first time in four or six weeks, is supposed to be sunny, maybe that’s the way it will be in July and August…maybe even September.

When it comes to watering, I won’t be happy about having to do that. Every single year, I say I’m going to lay down soaker hoses in ALL my flowerbeds. I have them in the flowerbeds along the fence and house in the back yard, but nothing in the huge area around the deck. I have to water that by hand. That’s where the majority of my dahlias are and you know how they love water. In front, I have a soaker hose in the flowerbed that goes around the house, but the street and driveway flowerbeds have to be hand watered. Then, of course, there’s the water bill that rises dramatically for two to three months.

I hope you don’t think I’m whining because I’m not really. But I’d also like to ask about your grocery store bills. I only go once a week unless I run out of salad makings or milk, but I do try to plan ahead. The last couple of times, I’ve been surprised at the final total of my bill. I don’t feel like I’m buying any extra stuff or more expensive stuff than in the past, and yet, the total seems almost double from what it was before…or was I just not paying attention then?

We are all saving money on gas though, right? I go to Costco maybe once a month and fill my gas tank then. Usually, it is barely half down because I’m not going anywhere. It certainly doesn’t take much fuel to go to the store and back and maybe every couple of weeks I drive in to Greenwood, but that’s really it. So, I guess the extra at the store is being made up at the gas station.

Something else came up when I was watching “Heartland” over the weekend. One of the women in the show has a blog called, Mom’s Time Out (at least I think that was the name). Out of the blue, and the skies in Alberta are really blue, she gets a phone call from a publisher in Toronto. They want to make her blog postings into a book and think it will be a best seller because she has so many people reading her blog. Wow, isn’t she lucky, and okay, it’s all fiction, but where’s my phone call and how come I don’t have tens of thousands of followers? I haven’t had a text, email, phone call, telegram (do they still do those?) informing me that my blog is wonderful and should be published. Seriously, though, I don’t and haven’t really expected that to happen…just another little whine that maybe brought a smile to your faces.

HALF WAY/GARAGE ATTIC EMPTIED

          Well, I’ve made it…365 divided by two equals 182.5. Yesterday’s post was #182 and the first part of this post is the point 5. How about that? Who knew I could manage to write something to post every single day? I certainly didn’t think I could get this far without giving up and I must admit there were days when I didn’t want to continue. But I have and did and will until I have nothing else to say that anybody might want to read. So, congratulations to moi for reaching the half-way point.

          Now, to continue with Post #183. Both sons and granddaughter were here on Monday to finish cleaning out the garage attic. I have to tell you it was a trip down memory lane, a lane that had it’s beginnings when we moved into this house 51 years ago. I saw things I thought were long gone, some of which pissed me off a lot because I had asked about them and John said he had no idea. I’m sure there will be more surprises when Haley comes back on Wednesday and we begin to sort through the boxes.

          The items that annoyed me the very most were the zinc wash tubs. My mother used them to do laundry when I was a kid and growing up. When she got her first washer-dryer combo, we took those tubs off her hands. For a time, they were used to hold ice and drinks when we had parties. Then, they disappeared, never to be seen (or heard of) again. All those years, they were at the back of the garage attic. In addition to the two from my mom, there was one larger one with handles. I have no idea where that one came from. Thor took the tubs home with him. Once they’re cleaned up, he envisions them as good homes for the turtles his family rescued.

          The first inclination I had about the rocking chair I purchased when pregnant with AJ was AJ holding two rocker feet. Then, sure enough, down came the body of the chair, the cushion and the base for the cushion. It was a used rocker when I bought it as the result of some ad in the paper. John and I went to a home just north of Northgate and right on the freeway. I had no idea until we visited that house that the freeway was so very LOUD. I used it for AJ, and then I thought it went to Goodwill. Apparently not. The cushion went into the garbage and Monday was garbage day.

          There were two old wood sleds with metal runners. Each of the boys took one home with them. AJ plans to wax the heck out of his runners and go for a joyride in the next snow. Thor didn’t indicate what he wanted to do with his, but it went into his van. There were also two cases of old soda bottles. Supposedly people collect those, so they’ll go into the garage sale. And, speaking of the garage sale, I’m cautiously planning to have it the weekend following Labor Day weekend. It won’t include the whole house because I don’t want people tramping throughout, so it will just eliminate, I hope, the stuff in the garage, or lead to another dump or Goodwill trip.

          The pile of stuff destined for the dump has grown larger, and depending on how much time it takes to sort on Wednesday, perhaps we can load it all into Haley’s truck and get it out of here. Thor took a van load of stuff home with him and AJ took a truckload of wood and metal he’ll recycle. None of us, including both his sons, can believe some of the stuff that was saved back in the darkest corners. The way it worked is Haley went up onto the plywood planks and pulled and pushed boxes of stuff to Thor who stood on the ladder and handed the boxes and stuff down to AJ. Me, myself and I just stood around or did other stuff because we were just in the way.

          Toward the end, AJ and Thor got to reminiscing about their days at Lake Forest Park Elementary, Kellogg and Shorecrest. Ten years in between and yet some of their stories sounded very similar. They also shared stories about some of the crap in the garage and their father. Some of them I hadn’t heard before and perhaps didn’t need to hear now. Still, it’s nice to see my boys laughing, joking, remembering and working together. It brings back some wonderful memories of their growing up years. I’m very grateful for every single one of those and today as well.

HOT WATER, LASAGNA AND POPPIES

          Today, Sunday, I’m especially grateful for water that comes to my house, gets warmed up in the hot water tank and allows me to shower. The reason I’m especially grateful is that it’s going to be a two-shower day. I showered and shampooed first thing so I could go grocery shopping. Once back home, it was time to pick up after the dogs and get the garbage ready for pick up tomorrow.

          My neighborhood gets yard waste picked up every week and there wasn’t a lot in my tote. So, I decided I’d just go ahead and clean out the flowerbed that’s in the shade. My tote still isn’t completely full, but that one flowerbed is a lot tidier than it was and I am dripping with sweat. Have I ever mentioned just how much I hate to sweat…no?...well, it’s probably my least favorite thing in the world. So, before I get in bed tonight, it will be shower time again.

          My glass half-full program seems to be off to a great start. When I begin to see less in the glass, I remind myself to just knock it off and think of something that’s more uplifting and positive that the negatives that inhabit the days that are behind me. And, okay, it’s only been a couple of days, but I’m happy to have two in a row and will push for three and beyond.

          Something else I’m happy about is frozen lasagna. I love lasagna, but what an ordeal to make an entire pan. And, yes, I could make an entire pan and then cut it into pieces and freeze single helpings for future dinners. But, I can purchase a frozen lasagna that’s just the right size for me. Something like seven minutes, maybe more, and it’s hot and ready to go. I do add extra mozzarella to the top when it’s done and put it back in the microwave for another minute or so. That’s what’s for dinner tonight with a couple slices of leftover garlic bread I froze a few months ago…and a salad.

          In my garden, I have these gorgeous red poppies. Many years ago, on my walks to Lake Forest Park Towne Center, I would pass this woman’s garden. I admit I stole a couple of the poppy seed pods from her.  Every year they come up and have managed to seed themselves into almost every single flowerbed. And, it seems like every year, they get bigger with more flowers per stalk. When they’re done blooming, I cut the seed pod off and leave it to dry in an open container. Then, I shake the seeds out. I’ve given these seeds to lots of folks.

          Another time my friend, Claudia, and I were at some event, maybe the Lavender Festival. There were these gorgeous lavender poppies and, once again, I committed the crime of stealing a couple of seed pods. I haven’t had as much luck with the purple ones as I did with the red ones. I had a single plant one year and then nothing until last year. Then, I noticed some very small purple ones that apparently seeded themselves because I’ve more this year and one of them got rather big with more than one flower pod. I do seem to remember the ones I stole were more lavender than purple and bushier like the red ones. Maybe in time. It would be wonderful if the two colors seeded themselves way more and together. Imagine how lovely that would be.

          Well, I’ve cooled off now and the next episodes of “Heartland” are calling my name. I’ll get myself some iced tea, and continue rolling pennies while my television entertains.

GRATEFULNESS

             For a couple of days, I was fairly miserable and gave serious consideration to just quitting this blog. Then, I realized I was looking at it from the glass half empty view rather than the glass half full. So, I’ve adjusted my attitude because I’m the only one that can actually do that.

          A year ago this coming Christmas, at least I think it was a Christmas gift, a friend gave me a book about being grateful. There were 365 reasons or explanations for why I should be grateful, one for each day of the year. I faithfully followed this book and each and every night, I wrote down five reasons why I was thankful for that very day. It wasn’t all that difficult, although there were days when I had to really concentrate hard to find something for which I was grateful.

          Then, I knew someone who was having a very difficult time. She’d broken a bone and had to go to rehab with the idea that she might not be able to return home on her own. She’s also the kind of person who likes books like the one I was given, so I passed it on. I figured she needed it at that point much more than I did. Looking back, perhaps I should have hung on to it and used it to remind myself this week and during the past months about what I do have to be grateful for…NOW.

          I do not have the capability (damnit anyway) to go back and change a single thing that’s happened in my life. All I can do is let the hurtful memories go and be super thankful for the great ones that remain, and there are tons and tons of those. So, I need to adjust my gratefulness scale. I need to look around myself at all the things and people for whom I am most grateful. I need to take a few minutes at the end of each day, as I used to do, to write down five things that made me grateful that very day. Depending on what they are and how my writing goes, perhaps I’ll even share some of them with all of you.

          And, to get me started, for today, Saturday, I am grateful for:

1.     Rain for giving all my plants a drink without my having to be the waterer.

2.    My garden. Even though it rains, I can sit inside or on the deck under cover and enjoy the beauty that’s the result of my planting and care. There I also find peace and quiet as well as the sound of my water feature and birdsong.

3.    I’ve decided to be grateful for the crap-fest John left behind. It’s given me my granddaughter one day a week for the last couple of months. I so enjoy her delight in the various finds she’s made and lunch always tastes better when you share it with someone. Her organizational skills impress the absolute hell out of me.

4.    The ability to look at my life and choose what I want to cherish and what I want to simply forget or at the very least, to forgive.

5.   I started this post early in the day and now the end of the day has arrived. So, the final grateful for the day is for this blog. It helps me see things more clearly; and I’m very grateful for each and every one of you who take the time to read and comment.

TODAY...

I had a post all prepared, but I’ve decided not to publish it for now. So, I really don’t have anything to say. Perhaps today I’ll be able to corral my thoughts and send them through my fingers into some kind of post for tomorrow.

FROM HAPPY TO PISSED AND SORROWFUL

          Do you dream? Do you remember your dreams when you wake up? I’m asking because I do dream and I don’t always remember the dream. I had one Thursday morning and I’m not sure what it was really about because I can’t remember much. I do know that I woke up laughing. I got up to go to the bathroom and sitting on the toilet, I laughed and laughed and laughed. It was the kind of laughter that would have had other people joining me if I hadn’t been alone. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to stop, but I eventually did. Back in bed, I went back to sleep, still giggling a bit and surely smiling.

          When I woke up again a couple of hours later, I could remember laughing so hard and practically being unable to stop, but I couldn’t remember much about what was happening in my dream. I know it had something to do with horses (probably because I’m watching “Heartland”), that the horse was pulling a wagon or sleigh, and there was mud or dirt. The conveyance stopped dead and the horses continued on. I wish I knew something else about the dream so I’d know why it I thought it was so funny that it made me laugh so hard for so long. I do know I woke up happy.

          I have a friend who almost always remembers her dreams in vivid detail, can identify the people who inhabit her dream, and sometimes has an orgasm depending on what she’s dreaming at the time. She doesn’t tell me much about those dreams…guess they’re private.

          For me, I hardly ever remember the dream or who was in it with me. I know I’ve had sexual dreams, but no orgasms that I can remember. Some people think you should keep a pad and pencil nearby so you can record your dreams as soon as you wake. That would work well if I could remember the dream when I wake up. It’s very unusual, in fact, I think this morning has been the only time in my life I’ve woke up laughing and kept laughing for a time. It was fun and I loved laughing like that and wished there were folks that could have joined me because it was the kind of laughter where you stop, look at someone and break down laughing again.

          And, who knows, but perhaps it was my body’s or brain’s way of relieving some of the angst I’ve felt the last few days. My reasons for the angst are in relation to my ability to complete my hour’s walk each morning. My need for a bathroom has cut my walk in half every morning this week. Plus, I have a sore spot on the bottom of my right foot. I have a tele-appointment with my doctor today, so perhaps she can provide some insight to my problems.

          It’s really really annoying to do everything right and proper for all the appropriate reasons and have my body sabotage my efforts. I mean, seriously, does it want to just sit and vegetate on the couch and have the grim reaper come calling a lot sooner than wanted? If that’s not the case, then why is my body not cooperating in my efforts to stay active and healthy? Perhaps the laughter from my unremembered dream this morning is my body’s way of saying sorry and releasing some of those happy endorphins I hear about? I loved the laughter and it made me feel wonderful, but an hour’s walk without having to cut it short or having my foot hurt with every other step would also make me feel good. Why can’t I have both???

          Then, my happy really took a beating. I was going through the last cigar boxes of John’s stamp stuff and found two things that were very upsetting. First, I found letters from some woman named Karen. She lived in California and their relationship began in 1973 or thereabouts when John was down there visiting people who I thought were friends to us both. Apparently not. Apparently they were only John’s friends because they assisted with the communications between John and Karen. Then, judging by the postmarks, this Karen and her family moved to Tennessee and the letters and phone calls continued. This was through the early 1990s. I had found other email communiques when I cleaned out the file cabinets, but nothing quite as blatant as this.

          The other surprise, except it wasn’t a total surprise were purchase orders from a Seattle firm for more than $20,000 in gold. Now, I knew John believed gold was a good investment and at some point, he finally told me about it and showed me what he had on hand. The surprise was that he began purchasing gold back in the mid- to late 1990s. And, just so no one thinks I have a pot of gold here, John apparently cashed it all in before he died because there hasn’t been a single piece of gold to be found anywhere in this house…I’ve looked and looked.

          Finally, I hope you have happy dreams and remember them. I hope your body cooperates with whatever you wish it to do. And, lastly, my advice to anyone reading this is to be upfront and communicate well about EVERYTHING before it’s too late. And, if you are having an affair and exchanging emails and/or snail mail, may I suggest you very carefully destroy it so the living partner doesn’t find out what an absolute fucker you were during the marriage.