![]() The trick to my finding peace of mind is to consider what I CAN change vs. what I need to accept. The Serenity Prayer comes to mind. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” THINGS I CANNOT CHANGE: 1. I cannot change the looming health issues affecting my family. I have a tendency to want to make everyone and everything better, as if I actually had the power to do this. Not only can I NOT make these serious health issues go away, I have my own health issues to deal with. I know I need to put my own oxygen mask on in order to be able to be a support for someone else. 2. I cannot change how other people feel. Everyone, including me, gets to have their own feelings and express them even if I feel uncomfortable when those feelings come bubbling up. It’s hard for me to be around someone who is angry or sad, but the only way to avoid this is to become an isolated hermit, which is definitely NOT on my agenda. THINGS I CAN CHANGE: 1. Worry. I am the master of worry. I have honed it to a skill. I need to get a grip and accept that there is no purpose projecting into the future and worrying about what might or could happen. It’s either going to happen and when it does I get to choose how to deal with it in that moment, or it’s not going to happen and then I don’t have to bother dealing with it. Getting worry out of my brain is the challenge. After spending time plotting out ways to deal with imagined problems that kept me awake the other night, I finally recognized there was no purpose to my mental ruminations. I did my deep breathing, brain emptying thing and I was able to sleep peacefully, although I did have some weird dreams about a giant lumbering turtle who walked on two feet like something out of a Japanese monster movie. Getting my worries out by talking to supportive friends is also good, but I must be careful not to pass them on to someone else by excessive dumping. 2. I can exercise. I exercised while I was on my trip, but I also ended up with a hip pain that wasn’t there before. Despite my nagging hip, today I got back on the exercise bike and I walked with a friend. Big star on my forehead. 3. I can cook and plan good things to eat. I have been harvesting piles of ripe tomatoes from my garden and I made a pasta primavera with them. 4. I can be productively creative. I did this on my trip. I wrote blog entries and imagined mysteries and I made works of art using my phone camera. Writing my blog always puts me in a different place psychologically. I have been frustrated about a desire to write a mystery but after talking to a friend about it I have a whole new perspective. She encouraged me to just write and not worry (there’s that nasty little word again) about who I am writing for or what kind of plot. Just write. I can do that. THE WISDOM TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE: I have a lot of voices in my head that constantly tell me what to do. Distinguishing the good advice from the bad is a daily task. A friend suggested that I think out of the box. I will continue to ponder what this could mean as I deal with life’s changes. ![]() I am back from a trip to see my family in the Midwest. The trip brought up a lot of feelings. I am worried about my family and I found myself having trouble getting to sleep while I schemed over how to fix everyone and everything. I am having a Debby Downer moment, which a friend pointed out to me this morning on a walk. David Bowie’s song “Changes” keeps repeating in my brain. Clearly there will be new issues and challenges on the horizon for me and all of my family. My own slightly annoying issues of discovering that my fit-over sunglasses don’t actually “fit over” my new frames and the fact that I have a pain in my hip that appeared without warning, pale in comparison with what my family members have to deal with. Everywhere I went on my trip, people I loved were dealing with health issues that were potentially life threatening and certainly life-changing.
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In 6th grade I had a kind of boyfriend. I did not "date" but there was a boy in my class who always picked me as his partner when we did square dancing for PE. We would meet at the skating rink and he would grab my waist from behind and push me around the rink. It was thrilling. He could skate much faster than I could and I remember flying around the rink, exhilarated by the speed and the fact that a boy had his hands around my waist. Unfortunately he eventually dumped me for the minister's daughter at my church. Skating was never the same after that. I tried skating once as an adult and time did not improve my skills. I still couldn't do crossover turns or skate backwards and my forward progress was even worse than it was when I was a kid. It's fun to remember the "good old days" at the skating rink, however, so I am glad I saw that Hockey store even though I had no desire to go in and check out the skates. ![]() I was exploring a shopping center near the apartment complex where my sister lives and they had an entire store devoted to Hockey. You don't find this kind of store in California where I live. It would be very weird to see a Hockey store next to the O'Neils surf shop, so it had a big impact on me. It reminded me that I actually used to live in a land of ice and snow. ![]() The few times I have been back to the Midwest in the winter, all I could think of was how unbelievably cold it was, but at one time in my life I barely noticed the cold. When I was a kid we were always outside playing in the snow. Skating was THE big social activity in the winter. All the girls had white figure skates and all the boys had Hockey skates. It would not have been cool for anyone to go against this tradition. For a boy to wear figure skates or a girl to wear Hockey skates would have been social suicide in 6th grade. In the winter every neighborhood park was a skating rink. They flooded what were the baseball fields in the summer. Our rink had a warming house with ramps going down onto the rink. You could glide easily to get down, but you had to work up some speed to get enough momentum to get up the ramp. There were wooden benches on the inside of the warming house that were ravaged by years of people slamming their skates into them. When we got too cold we would go into the warming house and pull on each other's skate runners to get the circulation back in our feet. Evidently there were snacks available because my sister remembers buying her favorite, Milk Duds. I am not athletically inclined and skating was no exception. I admired the kids who could whisk along doing crossover turns and skating backwards. I was lucky just to be able to make forward progress as I followed the crowd around the rink. It was like roller skating only a lot colder. The music playing through a loud speaker signaled everyone to change directions. ![]() This is the kind of thing you do when you are retired and have a lot of time on your hands. You use your phone to make art. Every morning I have been taking a walk while I am staying with my sister. I usually end up in the part of the apartment complex where she lives that is still under construction. Amazingly it has been an inspiration for me, way more than the scenic areas where I walk at home. Perhaps because the scenery at home has become too familiar? (Note to self: you might want to change up your walking environment occasionally?) I had an inspirational beach ball incident while I was heading for the construction zone, that spurred my creative juices to write a blog post. I found that the imposing and mysterious pink porta potties that provide relief for the construction workers made me very curious. I see them as a possible focus for a mystery I would like to write. And everywhere I look I see a potential work of art. I always carry my phone with me when I walk and I take pictures when I see something interesting. My friend who walks with me at home is a master of seeing art through her camera. When I see photos she has taken during our walks, that she posts on line, I marvel at how we could both look at the same thing, but see things so differently. She is an inspiration. Sometimes she photoshops her photos and they look like mini paintings. I discovered that my phone has the ability to photoshop pictures way more dramatically than I realized. There is a whole slew of things I can do. I can crop, rotate, change the exposure, add color and use a myriad of special effects. I can even draw with my finger on top of the photos. I used my phone camera to alter photos for a couple of my blogs, and then I started playing with some of the photos I took in the construction zone. It's FUN! I can change ordinary objects into things of wonder. I can create fantasy worlds with the swipe of my finger. Technology is an amazing thing. When I was kid a could never have imagined that I would be carrying a phone in my pocket, let alone be using it to email and surf the web. There was no such thing as email and there was no web to surf. Now I find my phone is a mini art studio too! Who knew?! I love mysteries. I like to read mysteries and I like to watch them on TV. Lately I have been thinking that I would like to write a mystery. After researching mystery writing on the internet, I have an idea for a character, but I have been struggling with developing a good idea for a plot. My main character is Vera Olive Gardner. She is a bit like me in that she is a retired teacher. OK, I admit Vera is a lot like me. Vera is a good problem solver and is adept at divergent thinking. She has the ability to see the whole picture and make connections and she has an unending amount of patience that was honed by years of dealing with junior high students. For the plot, the mystery writing sites recommend that novice writers "write what you know." I know nothing about murder and I don't really want to write about it anyway, so I need to come up with another kind of mystery. I need a plot where the protagonist is asked to answer a question or solve a problem that revolves around subjects I DO know, like teaching, cats, and senior issues. Unfortunately, these subjects are not necessarily gripping or mysterious. It was a stretch, but I finally came up with some "Little Old Lady with cats" style mystery scenarios (and matching book covers) using the not-so-mysterious subjects that Vera and I both know. It was fun to look at some of the ordinary experiences of my life from the perspective of a mystery writer. Who knew my life was so exciting? ![]() SCHOOLED IN DECEPTION Vera, a former teacher, is brought in to solve a rash of incidents at the local middle school. Who is stealing food from the faculty room refrigerator? Why are one third of the students missing pencils when asked to produce them for a writing assignment? What new educational theory will the unsuspecting staff be asked to incorporate into their already overloaded curriculum? When a student pulls out a fork and tries to attack another student in the foods class, Vera fears for the safety of the students and the teachers. ![]() DEATH OF A OPOSSUM When a mummified opossum is discovered during a remodeling project, Vera remembers that years ago she had been haunted by the smell of death coming from under her house. Mystery solved. ![]() THEY SEE AT NIGHT A tale that explores the darker side of cat ownership Vera lets out a blood curdling scream as she opens the front door. There, on the welcome mat, lies a dead gopher's head. Although she tries to seek shelter from the frightening vision by slamming the door and scuttling indoors, Vera is driven mad by the constant discovery of disgusting wet fur balls and the underlying mystery that always haunts a woman who owns more than one cat, "Who threw up?" SENIOR MOMENT MYSTERIES A series similar to Nancy Drew, but geared for older readers: ![]() VERA GARDNER AND THE LOST GLASSES Vera awakes to the knowledge that her glasses are missing and she has no way to find them without being able to put on her glasses, thus perpetuating a vicious and frustrating cycle. Little does she know, they are wedged between the mattress and the wall. ![]() VERA GARDNER AND THE LOST THOUGHTS Vera is caught up in a tangled web of confusion as she wanders from room to room in her house but is unable to remember why she went into that room in the first place. ![]() VERA GARDNER AND LOST PERCEPTION While out doing errands, Vera hesitates at a stop light. The scene looks eerily unfamiliar. For a brief moment she is plunged into a foreign world. Then, as she ponders "Where the heck am I driving?" her brain shifts into gear and she finds she is ready to continue on her journey. Of course I realize my plot lines need a bit more work but I am anxious to send Vera and her husband Arthur (did I mention she was married?) on an adventure. It's still a mystery to me what that adventure will be.
For more about Vera and Arthur, check out the writer's workshop page at the top of my blog.
In general, I don't like selfies. The ones I usually take by myself make me look worse than I think I look. I prefer to use my real camera on a tripod with the time delayed shutter feature. It gives me more control, and heaven knows, "control" is my middle name. When I was younger I took some shots of myself using a mirror behind the camera so that I could pose properly and smile appropriately. I noticed that my sister's phone camera allowed us to do basically the same thing. On my phone the screen is too dark which makes it harder for me to see what I look like. Maybe that's why this photo turned out better than the ones I usually take.
The other important thing to do in a selfie is to take it from a high angle. This eliminates double chins and neck wrinkles. I learned this by watching one of my Dad's caregivers. She always held her phone above her head, and sure enough, she was instantly 20 years younger in her selfie. I've seen some people put their phones on long sticks and do the same thing. I bet you could take 30 years off with a stick holder, but in order to do it you have to carry your camera around on that stupid stick. It looks a little like those "invisible dog" fake leashes you get at a fair, very tacky. What good is a selfie if you have to walk around looking like an idiot in order to get it? The most important thing about this selfie is that we had a great time doing it. In order to get one we could both agree on posting, we took a lot of them. We made sure that we held the camera at the proper high angle and we donned our best selfie smiles, but you can tell they were real "I am so happy to be with my sister" smiles. My visit with my sister has turned out to be a lot more stressful than I had anticipated. What with family members who have multiple health issues and unexpected additional houseguests I have been doing a lot of deep breathing and my sister and I keep breaking into a twin version of "Let it Go! Let it Go!" Stress happens. I'm trying to deal with it as best I can. Last night, we turned what could have been a crazy stressful situation into an adventure. A friend of my sister's husband needed an emergency place to stay, so now my sister has two houseguests, me and Charlie. Charlie arrived last night in a truck loaded with all his worldly possessions driven by a friend. Our mission (should we accept it, of course) was to guide Charlie and his friend to drop off the rental truck, drop Charlie's friend off at a motel by the airport, and return home. It was 9:30pm. By 12:30pm, we had completed the mission before we self destructed.
We almost missed the truck rental place. Only a small unlit sign marked the turn-off. Luckily I still haven't lost my night vision. Charlie and his friend left the truck and we drove them to the motel and dropped off Charlie's friend. On the way back, I couldn't believe the amount of late night traffic. The freeway was crawling. It took forever, but we were riveted, listening to the details of the situation that forced Charlie into seeking sanctuary. I felt grateful for my own subdued life.
I know this will not be the end of the story. More upheaval is inevitable in the next week and a half of my trip. Once again I am grateful that my sister and I can still laugh through our stressful situations. I'm also grateful for my friends who responded to my "I need support" emails. I am grateful for my willingness to get out and walk in the morning, and for the exercise bicycle in the apartment clubhouse. And I am grateful that, at least for today, I can sing with my sister, knowing that the only thing I can do is to accept what's happening in the moment, and "Let it Go!" ![]() I saw it casually roll past as I stepped out of the side street. A medium sized bright pink beach ball was traveling down the street of the apartment complex where I was visiting my sister. It was all by itself. I was out for my morning stroll. The streets were deserted. The apartment complex is very new. My sister and her husband live in the part that is finished, but just blocks away is a section under construction. The ball was headed for the construction zone I looked to see who had thrown the ball. There were no visible people anywhere. No one threw it, no one rolled it, it was traveling on it's own momentum. I guess the slight incline of the street was keeping it going. There was a light breeze that was a perfect accompaniment for my walk. The breeze seemed to push the ball along as it zigzagged down the street. ![]() I had this odd feeling, like I was in a science fiction movie where the end of the world had happened and I was the only person left, just me and the ball. I was a female version of Tom Hanks and his soccer ball "Wilson." The ball had a personality all it's own. It was very cute in it's pinkness and I wanted to take care of it. It brought out my maternal instincts. I followed it into the unfinished side of the apartment complex. Even on the gravely part of the street it kept right on going. The only thing that stopped it was a large pink porta potty. The beach ball wedged its little self between the curb and the porta potty. It was stuck. I felt compelled to "rescue" it. I freed it from behind the porta-potty. It was a little dirty and had gravel stuck to its shiny pink surface. It needed a new home. I carried it back towards my sister's apartment and stopped at the garden in front of the clubhouse. This was a perfect spot. I set it between the puffy pink Hydrangeas. It looked happy. I hoped whoever owned it would find it in this beautiful spot and know that someone had looked after it.
I walked on, anxious to tell my sister about my beach ball adventure and happy in the knowledge that I had done my good deed for the day. |
Leslie Masona woman in search of her post-retirement future Guess what! By subscribing, you get notices about the latest Little Old Lady with Cats posts sent to your mailbox!
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(from an entry posted on 5/1/2015) “I definitely fit some of the characteristics of a little old lady with cats: Retired - check, Single - check, Like to knit - check, Have cats - check. . .I do not want to get stuck in my Little Old Lady persona, however. In fact, this blog is a risk taking experiment in exploring and redefining what I want my retired life to look like.” Categories
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