I am doing nothing. It is a bit like Spring Fever. Once my early morning walks are done and I am back in the house, doing nothing seems the better option.
I tried sewing on my strip of hemp, not linen, but then cut out the section because I hated it and tossed it in the bin. It had too much color. It was too patchy. I even painted over the cloth patches and stitched some more. It was dumb looking. Good idea to pitch it. Start again another day.
And then with a new television and more options to waste time, I got hung up on The Great British Baking Show. I like how kind they are to each other. And one episode leads to another just to see what they will bake next. It has not inspired me to bake. I am even having to remind myself to eat lately, let alone cook. Last night it was a small plate of leftover rice from last week. Even the cats wouldn’t help me finish it off. Tonight I am promising myself to fix flounder with asparagus and cheesy grits. If I make enough for two meals then I won’t have to fix anything tomorrow. That seems appealing.
I am not even drawing. It is hard to be enthusiastic about anything here at the house. It is like I have left the place without going anywhere. Here there are mostly walls surrounding things that need to be packed up. I am ready to move. But for the next several months or more here is where I will be, sitting smack dab in the middle of memories that are fading as they brush past on their way to a safe place where they can wait for me to cherish them again.
My god, it is quiet in here! We should have been dog people. At least they make noise with their barking and begging. Our cats don’t even think of rousing from their slumbers unless they sense I am somewhere the treats cupboard.
Anyway here are some images from those perfect walks.
With the darker mornings and me having to feed the deer and birds before I set off for my walks, I am later getting to these lovely places.
And the Riverwalk hasn’t got much in the way of drama. The river is very low and this fall is offering little color.
And this one that made me wish I was Alice and could grow small just to walk up to this door and give it a good knock.
I come back from these walks and wonder how to plan my day. Some days I throw myself into something like sorting and packing bits in the studio. The other day I made decisions and packed up papers I may use from both of those large flat files. That felt good, just thinking I might someday use them for something.
Lee’s birthday was last week. He is now 84 years old and needed to be put on a medication to calm down his abusive language toward those taking care of him. Unlike the last place he was in they are very used to handling this kind of behavior. It is not uncommon for some of their dementia patients to turn on bad language when they hardly ever used it before. The staff just have to call whenever there is a change in medications and assured me that he only talks this way to the ones trying to give him a bath or help with his eating. Most of the time he is content talking with one of their stuffed cats on his lap.
When the weather is this beautiful I will walk down to the mailbox and back up to the house…this quiet, quiet house.
It is now four-thirty and I will pour a glass of wine, maybe get back to writing my next short story,……