Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Middle of January Ramblings

I’m writing in 2019, but I’m not sure I’ve even digested the reality of 2018. I suspect I’m not the only one having vague recollections of life in the 1970s and 80s, and thinking that the 20-anythings seemed waaaaay far off. Seriously, is it really 2019 already?

This must mean I’m getting old, according to my projections made as a kid. As Rose O’Neill commented upon her sixtieth birthday, “How roguish.”

In case you’re wondering, 2019 has actually started off on a promising note. I am entirely grateful for many things that seem to be going well. Let’s use some bullet points, shall we? Taking stock:

Patches, our elderly kitty, had a pretty bad spell with her arthritic hips in early December (right when we were heading to Ohio for Sue’s niece’s wedding). But boy howdy, with a new supplement for her joints, she’s been doing real well. I get her to “walk around the block” (circle through the kitchen, dining room, living room, and front hall) each morning once or twice before serving her her beloved soft food (Royal Canin or Science Diet kidney chow). God love her, she’s deaf, and she puts the “cat” in “cataracts,” but she shows lots of affection for me, and she’s comfortable, and she makes sure to give Lois hell whenever she sees her. I’m grateful for this time with Patches. She’s a really sweet kitty.


Church, which has been a topic of recent posts, has been going well. Our new congregation is growing, and the sense of freshness continues. Also (and I’m glad about this, too), my former congregation seems to be moving past the split, as well.

Christmas was good, though a bit strange for me—we didn’t put up the famous Weihnacthspyramide this year . . . we simply ran out of time. That, and we weren’t excited about giving Lois the opportunity to completely destroy it. Next year, Lois will be another year older, and maybe we’ll be able to trust her not to leap onto it and, like . . . destroy it. BUT! We did help my parents put up a Christmas tree, which was right in my Mom’s sight-line as she sits in her chair, and it was there for when my brother and one of my nephews came to visit at Christmastime.

And the visit with my brother was good, too. I’m grateful that my relationship with him is maturing, just as we both are. Sometimes, in the past, I haven’t clicked very well with him, but now . . . we see more eye-to-eye. Funny how, over the years, we meet each other in between our various flip-flops . . .

Also Christmas: once again, I made a bunch of different Christmas cookies. I’m starting to accept that this “gift” is as much for me as it is to my recipients. Of course I give most of them away to family and friends, but we do end up with some ourselves. And I’m doling them out. Tonight, I relished a few of the old-fashioned ones that no one else seems to make anymore: lebkuchen, springerle, billy goats. And I let the waves of memory wash over me, Christmases past . . . my childhood, my family, and I could feel we were still connected over space and time.

Financially: I was rather foolish in 2018. Generous with my time, but it bit too much into my professional life. I don’t regret volunteering so much with local organizations, but I see that I let it get out of balance. I need more “billable hours” in 2019, and I’m off to a good start. Feeling good about a renewed discipline regarding my freelancin’.

Looking out the windows: The Capitol looks really funny, all wrapped up in plastic (or whatever that is). The maintenance is long overdue. I'm glad its under way.

Sleeping: it wasn’t occurring to me, exactly, how much my sleep (or lack of) was messing up my life. I’ve come to the conclusion that the mushy foam mattress that I’d hoped would end my problems has actually been worse than what I had before. For one thing, it absorbs heat, and with my hot flashes (!!!), it gets intolerable. Tired (exhausted, actually) of getting out of bed, standing up, in the middle of the night, with back and hip pain and sweating. It’s not a good thing when you wake up for the umpteenth time thinking, “please kill me now.” So until I find something better, I’ve returned to a futon, and I’ve been waking up feeling . . . good.

And there you have it. A little update from here. Who knows what 2019 will bring.