Strength Returning

I ordered these five pound weights on advice from one of the physical therapist. Then I removed two pounds from each one to make them more usable for where I am now. Shoulders, arms and legs can get a better workout with these. With the addition of the stretch bands they gave me, I am getting some good workouts. Plus the fellows have started me walking on the road, but only with them and a walking stick so far. I go a bit further each time.

The six way book has a new drawing/painting. The Wooly Mullein.

One of the therapists told me that Native Americans used to collect the seeds and once a year toss them in the water to drive the fish to the surface. Then they could catch enough to process for winter. Interesting. As a kid, I always liked this weed. It seemed impossible to kill and the feel of those lovely soft, fuzzy leaves was delightful. Speaking of weeds, my yardman is coming the following week to help rid my yard of those taking advantage of my weakness. That and to clean out my pond…algae is clogging the little pump.

I took the black bench off the front entryway, painted it with a color that matches the cedar pergola and will wait until someone stronger comes by and ask them to put it outside under the living room windows. I might put some pots on it come Spring. But for now it will just be waiting outside in the weather.

More phyllo pastries with cheeses, ham and spinach were needed. They make a good meal when effort is too elusive. Most of them are now waiting in the freezer.

The cats are such good companions and will move to whatever room I am in.

I went to my first poetry critique this past Thursday and read the latest poem. This one has inspired me to slowly work on a book to be titled, Brevity. Short pieces that are centered on spacious pages. When I wrote this one, it came all at once with no thinking or planning. I loved how those who might have witnessed this woman could take comfort in her easy passing and perhaps their own one day.

 

Her Last Breath

 

When she drew her last breath,

   it came with the smell

   of strawberries.

 

She closed her lips and smiled

   as she savored

   the last one.

 

And this one from a couple weeks ago. Definitely more autobiographical.

 

There is a Door      

 

There is a door

that doesn’t want to close.

 

I know this because it bounces

back from the door jamb

whenever I pass through.

 

Whatever is behind me

wants to follow, tap my shoulder,

and say, “Don’t forget me.”

 

I pause and say,

“What?”

“What do I need to remember?”

 

But the door just hangs there

on its hinges waiting until I return,

to gently pull it closed.

 

It drags its feet across the threshold,

sighing at my determination

to shut a door behind me.

 

Humidity and heat are slowing me down. I can’t wait until the cooler days of Fall.

In the meantime I write and build my body strength back to what it was two months ago…maybe better!

Til later….