Almost There

That is how I named my post, two years ago today. The words have a number of meanings for me. When I started, I did believe that I was almost there - my ultimate destination. As a matter of fact, I still feel that way. Could be wrong of course. That's been known to happen before.

I hate to sound like my mother. She told us so many, many times, over a period of years, that she would not be with us much longer. Whether she believed that, or had her own motives for wanting us to believe it, I guess we will never know. We learned to ignore it most of the time. No, I don't want to sound like that. But it was part of my own reason for the blog name. I didn't think I was really quite ready to move on at that time, but I didn't believe it would be quite this long. More recently, I do believe it won't be long. I'm not in any hurry, but I am ready whenever the time comes, and quite content.

Oh, we are never really "ready". There are many things I would like to finish, mostly to make it easier for those I leave behind. But I have resigned myself to the fact that I've left those things too late. I am no longer capable of finishing the job, in that sense. Sorry about that. But I have lived a long, full, and very happy lifetime. I have been far more fortunate than most in so many ways. And it is enough.

I love my children and my grandchildren very much of course, and I am satisfied that they can all take very good care of themselves now, so my job is done. I love my friends - such good friends - and thank them from the bottom of my heart just for being who they are, and allowing me the privilege of being part of their lives for a while.

No one on this planet knows what comes next. It's the last great adventure, isn't it? Each of us knows what he wants to believe. I want to believe that I will be with those I love who have gone before, and that some part of me will still be around, watching all of you, and loving you as much as ever.

Gee, I'm beginning to sound morbid. That's certainly not my intention. I don't feel that way in the least. No tears necessary. It's all good. But I am kind of looking forward to whatever comes next, and feel as if I'm almost there. If I'm wrong - OK. That's good too. You just never know what's around the next corner, do you? It's usually something pretty interesting.

My blog is just two years old. 2010 is only a week old. Have to wonder where they are both headed, and what I will be doing as each of them goes on. When I was young I was so sure of where I was going. Now I just take each day as it comes and try to make the most of it. Go with the flow, as they say. And this post is wandering off and becoming very weird. Probably should have stopped a paragraph or so back, or maybe never started it at all. I think that I will end it right here, and go think of something else to talk about.


I wasn't going to put this toon in my blog - just made it for myself - but, what the heck. Must be the introspective thing that comes with the start of a new year.

Clutter

I guess people can be divided into two categories: neat freaks and clutterers. At least that's the way it seems to me. I don't think either are good or bad, right or wrong. They just are who they are. I like my clutter.

My mother was a neat freak. Her house looked like a series of magazine pictures at all times. We never casually dropped a jacket on a chair or - God forbid! - anything on the floor. Nothing ever hit the floor. Mom snatched it up on its way down and whisked it away to the closet or drawer. I used to say I was a terrible housekeeper because my mother never taught me how to do anything. She was always compelled to do it herself - the right way. Drove me crazy. I guess my clutter was a sign of rebellion that I never outgrew.

I had a neighbor once who would come in for a cup of coffee occasionally and I would catch her eying my kitchen with a look of distaste. It was clean you understand - just not very neat.

In my last job, I had a boss who was a neat freak. His desk always looked as if he never did a lick of work there. (Well, in all honesty, he didn't, except on rare occasions.) My desk and bulletin board drove him a little crazy. Like most clutterers, I could find anything I wanted on desk or board in an instant. Knew right where everything was. But I often caught him surreptitiously moving something on my desk just slightly to make it more to his liking. He reminded me of my mother.

Well, they say that geniuses and artistic people often live amid clutter. Maybe I'm an artistic genius?? - or not

I do seem to collect things. Little things. Seashells, small rocks. (Have you ever read the children's book, Everybody Needs a Rock by Byrd Baylor? A lovely book. And I do have my own rock. I found it on the beach at Moss Landing. It's a perfect little rock.) Many little things that remind me of wonderful places I've been. Little things do collect dust.

Speaking of dust, I really must dust my shadow box again. It isn't really a proper shadow box - It's an old printer's tray. It's full of a clutter of little things, all of which have some special meaning to me. They include a few actual printer's blocks. One is a map of Long Island, where I spent all my married life. There's a little rabbit sitting on top of that one. When the kids were small, we always counted the rabbits we saw feeding along the Garden State Parkway, as we drove home to Long Island from Grammy's house in south Jersey. The blocks came from The Star and Wave newspaper in Cape May. They were going to be thrown out when they converted to more modern methods of printing. The tray itself is the last thing my husband bought for me before his death. It cost $5 at a yard sale.


I seem to be rambling again. I guess my mind is as cluttered as my house.

Gonna Miss Her Visits

Our local branch of the library, where Rita works, and which is right around the corner from me, is undergoing extensive renovation. I just heard that it will be vacated for the duration, as of this coming Friday. Rita will be working a couple of miles away for at least the next four months. Since she does not drive, this means no more lunch time visits for quite a while.

For me, besides missing her company, this means no more of her bringing in my mail, and taking out my trash once a week. Inconvenient, to say the least. There are lots of days when I can't do that.

Too bad it has to be during the entire winter (and into the spring). That's bad news for her - and me too. And it can't be good for the construction team trying to get it all done, which might mean it could be even longer.

I will have to find something else to occupy me in the middle of each day. She will have to learn the bus schedule for days when she can't get a ride to and from work. And I'm betting, despite the fact that it's been in the papers and there will be a sign on the library door, that the people at Town Hall next door to the library, will have a steady stream of people asking them what's happening and where they can find the library. People do seem to be like that.

Shadow Shot Sunday

Shadow Shot Sunday is always hosted for us by Tracy, at Hey Harriet in Australia. Their Sunday is only Saturday in the U.S.

As the sun was setting the other day, I looked out of my front door, and saw a little house across the street decorated with a sort of golden glow and what I thought were some lovely shadows. Don't you agree?

First Night

Just a quickie to share what my daughter shared with me - First Night, in Monterey.



Part of it seems to have been filled with birds. The nice bird man introduced one to Isaac.




Isaac seems to have been delighted with the "jacket-eating bird".



I'm sure there was much more to the evening, but this seems to have been the highlight for my grandson.

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2010