May is almost over. It’s hard to believe we’ve only been here six or so weeks.

Like l’ve mentioned before, time seems to tick by slower than it does in California.

I’m sure I mentioned the rainy weather. Its been unseasonably cold. Even so, I’m settling in better this time. There were a few days that I got a little fed up with the city (we couldn’t get them to approve anything) and the yard, and probably the rain, my coughing, but I rolled through it all.

One good thing came of all our frustration over whether we could build or not build an ADU

W A T E R

Ironically as I was reading ‘Be Water, My Friend’, by Shannon Lee, we were going back and forth about running a water line.

It turns out we can’t run one from the house to an ADU, but we can to the garage.

I decided a ramshackle kitchen in the garage with running hot and cold water would do nicely for our short stay.

So one day, in a surge of frustrated energy, I started to move things around. After a couple of days, G and his mom saw a glimpse of my vision and got onboard with the idea.

Yesterday, I found two plumbers and met one. He will be coming next week to give us a quote.

The kitchen is a design challenge that has me stretching every creative muscle. It’s been oddly fun. This is just the kind of project that gets me up in the morning. I still have a long way to go, but so many details are falling into place. Sure, it’s a rough garage, but can you see the direction I’m heading?

It’s going to be so cute. It kind of already is in a ramshackle, hodge podgey way, but just wait!

Practice is a good word.

When I practice anything, I usually get better, or at the very least, I feel more confident about it.

Although yoga is not a religion, (trust me, I grew up with religion, yoga is definitely not one), but it is a good thing to practice and get better at. So is golf. Or painting. Athletes and musicians know this. Do people get better at religion? Probably.

Yoga is its own thing.

With practice, yoga gets easier. Even after years of practice, I still benefit from practicing regularly.

Lately, I’ve been going daily. Every class offers something different.

Some, I walk out of feeling like I went to a good chiropractor, others feel like I spent the hour strength training. Still others, are informative. There is one I like that focuses on structure and spine alignment.

I feel my balance getting better, I’m more flexible and stronger than I was just over a month ago. Plus a few of my classes are followed by a twenty minute meditation which is another helpful thing to practice.

I know yoga isn’t for everyone. Religion isn’t either. But practice? I think that can be…

Well

Hmmm

I’m good at a few things.

When I was a kid I wondered why I was good at things that no one cared about (art) and terrible at things that mattered (cleaning, school work, folding clothes…)

I had to grow up and slow down and figure out what things I was capable of and how I could contribute. Then make friends with myself because for everything I’m freakishly good at, there are so many things I’m really not.

Someone once told me they married their wife because she was great a filling out forms. I took that to mean I would likely never marry.

It took me a lot of years to stop worrying about what I wasn’t good at, and just lean in to what I was.

Now?

I guess I just go with it.

I’m good at transforming things. Editing. Making things pretty. Most things art.

Plus I learned that if I do something enough times, even if it I can’t do it at first, I can become good at it.

I now fold a fitted sheet like it came from the store. I can seriously clean, plus, I kind of enjoy it. So you never know.

People I would love to talk to!

Oh, I’m not a fan.

Seasons are great and all, but I think I prefer the cold ones in small doses.

I can handle a month or so of New England winter. I’m pretty much over all the layers of clothes which the wind still blows through that you have to put on and take off repeatedly all day long. Snow is fun on the first day. Maybe the second. It gets old fast.

This year spring has been long and cold. While much of the country is experiencing a heat wave, we’re still in the 50s with a strong wind off the water. (My ap says that makes it feel like 40)

I mean it’s much better than the cold of January or February.

We finally planted the garden. I’m sure it’ll warm up in a couple of weeks.

I caught something when I first arrived here. It seemed harmless enough, I felt lousy for a few days, then much better.

I had this deep cough that lingered, I sounded terrible, but felt ok. It wasn’t constant, so I was able do yoga.

At least I thought I felt fine.

Six weeks later, I actually DO feel well . I have my energy back. It’s funny. I think when I arrived, I had so many things to adjust to, I had no perspective for how I was really feeling.

This is not that unusual for me. I’m not the most self aware when it comes to being sick. In fact I tend to have a fair amount of denial over it. I really don’t like to waste time being unwell. Even as a kid, I perfered school to staying home.

The three days that I was fevered and didn’t want to infect others, I didn’t go to yoga. Those days passed soooo slowly. I kept my distance from everyone for weeks, but today I can hardly believe how much better I feel.

Plus

I noticed that I’m adjusting pretty well. Being here felt hard at first. G had a few stand-offs with his mom. There were awkward days. She relented though. I started reading “Be Water, My Friend” and kept reminding myself to stay neutral.

Small wins over little things have made things much better. It’s a bit of a dance, I’m learning to stay fluid and consistent.

Good to be feeling like myself again. Nothing like getting over a cold , to notice how good it is to feel well.

Today the oldest thing I’m wearing is a hundred year old gold necklace. It looks like a locket but it’s not. My grandmother gave it to me (or my mom to keep for me)

The little note that was included with it says it was fifty years old in 1968. My grandmother passed soon after, I was too young to have a memory her. The necklace was packed away with a few of my old baby items.

My granddaughter was with me when I discovered it again in storage this past winter. She was interested in seeing my baby clothes. There was another necklace in the box that I had worn as a kid. Rose loved it.

These necklaces have not been worn in fifty years.

So we wore them home. I haven’t taken mine off. I like the connection to my grandmother and my granddaughter on the same day. Now that I’m living far from my grandkids, having a daily reminder, a touchstone of sorts, feels important. Pictures are nice and give me comfort since being away, but I appreciate the physicality of the necklace. It’s a nice reminder of a fun day that spanned four generations. I like to think of my grandma, Rose’s great great grandma, looking down and appreciating that she set this in motion all those many years ago.

Grandparenting is another amazing part of life that I never expected to experience. I wish my own grandmother had lived long enough for me to remember her. Her husband, my grandfather, was a big part of my earliest memories, his influence has stayed with me throughout my whole life.

Generation to generation things change dramatically, but the love we have for our grands, that stays with us from both directions, forever.



I don’t lead or follow

I just walk

Or maybe wander…

Avocados

Berries

Fruit fresh off the tree: oranges, lemons, cherries, plums

That’s six, but some people don’t consider avocado a fruit, 🤷🥑🫐🍋🍒🍊plus I didn’t see a plum emoji

If you’ve ever been lucky enough to live near an orange tree or a cherry tree or a plum tree, you know what I mean. Also a lemon tree is a bonus of abundance. You see these in So Cal all the time, hundreds of lemons covering one little tree. Luckiness in real time.

There is no grocery store equivalent for some fruits picked and eaten immediately.

I’m trying to pay attention and learn from things.

Every interaction

Every reaction

What is this teaching me about me?

Conversations

oh man

I’m realizing how very little control one little person (me) actually has. In fact I am getting futility on a much deeper level.

It’s all an exercise in letting go. Not letting things affect me.

But if they do, finding acceptance of that, compassion and moving quickly on.

Because nothing is worth closing my heart over.

What is the lesson or lessons I’m learning? What is all this teaching me about me?

I’m not there yet. I have no answers.

I know there will be some so I’ll just stay as much in the roll of observer for as much of the time as possible.

One day, there will be a blog…