I sat quietly in the shade, under the patio umbrella, with my back to the weeds and my eyes contemplating the garden and I was greatly satisfied.
We have not yet reached the days when the air shimmers in the heat, but the afternoon was probably the warmest we have had this year, and even from first thing in the morning the valley was hazy, and the hills blue and shadowed and indistinct.
My purpose was to be a watchful chaperone for the little dog, who, it seems, is seeing less every day. But he still enjoys his twice a day Business trips down the road, and starts off briskly, with tail aloft and with the air of someone who knows where he is going.
I am concerned that he will make a wrong turn as he starts home, and end up at the bottom of the road, where lurks the killer highway. Husband tells me that he relies as much on smell as on sight, and this is probably so, - but I have seen him become quite confused as to where he is, and so I watch and wait. I could go with him, but these old gentlemen value their independence!!
Caspar has been with us for twelve years, - when he came to us as a year old puppy we were still traveling, but now we are homebodies, - all three of us. And we all nap in the afternoon. Even Callie the cat sleeps on my chest, or on Husband's lap. A time to re-charge.
While I sat drowsily waiting for Caspar to return I looked down at my new lime green clogs that I bought for garden wear, and thought wonderingly about how young they make me feel. They make me want to walk the way I did ten years ago, - and sometimes I even accomplish it in these pretty, young shoes.
I wait now for the June Moon to make its entrance ( stage left from behind the Cawston hills) and to flood the valley with its romantic light.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Today when I awoke the words that floated in my head were these, -
Time is of the Essence, Time is of the Essence....
Of Course. Time is of the Essence!!!
When the clock of Life hovers between 11.30 and 11.45 P.M. what else would be "of the essence", and why would one not be in a quandry as to how to spend the last golden "minutes" when there is still half a day's desires to fulfil!!!
What a simple explanation for the options that whirl around my head, - The Simple Life - The Self Disciplined Life - The urge to relax into the Arms and run my stick along the fence....
Many years ago someone very dear to me gave me the poem about the purple dress, the red hat, and the lovely lanes and pathways open to the truly old. It hangs in my loom room. She didn't have the opportunity of growing truly old, but I think of her as I struggle with these choices.
I see the Baby Oldsters who have latched on to the Red Hat syndrome, and wonder if this is a substitute for the Royal Purple or the Eastern Star without the service aspect, or are they truly practising to be old and eccentric and free to ignore the mores and standards. In my mind I do not think they have faced the reality of being Truly Old, or tasted its bitter-sweet pleasures and disappointments. In embracing the freedoms that come with old age it seems they are merely indulging an appealing fancy and reality is yet to cuff them on the head.
Well, that is my opinion anyway.
I am still puzzled about the path I should follow, - perhaps I should take them chronologically, one day after another, and truly confuse people!!!! Monday I shall live the Simple Life, and take the laundry and a scrubbing board to the nearest stream. Tuesday, I shall be self disciplined and orderly, doing everything by precision and in accordance with the clock!
And Wednesday - ah Wednesday - I shall throw my hat into the air, take off my shoes, and walk barefoot in the garden...
Monday, May 28, 2007
Is it possible to achieve The Simple Life and still give credence to these questions that beset me??
Be Aware: This is an exercise in Navel Contemplation, and not liable to be of particular interest to the casual reader!
So - what shall I Weave - after I've woven the warp that's already on the Loom??
How does one wean oneself away from the computer and tuck away the projects that lie within its various programs until another day, another time.
Is there a way of allowing discipline to plan my days, rather than this wild, creative, intuitive spirit that moves me to do just exactly what I want to do? At last!!!
Is this what I want - a disciplined life??? How do I balance the satisfaction gained from doing what I am moved to do, with the dissatisfaction that arises as a result of a lack of self discipline?
What about the virtues of the Simple life? The philosophy of Simplicity appeals greatly, but can it be achieved without either inner peace, or adopting a habit of strict self discipline?
Oh, I am fraught with questions tonight!!!
All of them engendered by a frivolous May, - time spent frittering away the leisure hours doing FUN things, - making slideshow/movies, indulging in nostalgic pasttimes, (looking at pictures without any firm intention of cataloguing them....).
Even the garden, - who enjoys bending over, pulling weeds, tending new plants, admiring green growth and budding flowers? I do, - I do!!!
All of these questions arose from a feeling of guilt which engulfed me as I passed by the Loom Room and heard the faint plaintive cry of the neglected warp. Then lo, in the mail was the new issue of Handwoven. Hope lifted me, - perhaps I could find inspiration there that would solve all my problems and get me back on the straight and narrow path of achievement - that path that First Borns are so impelled to follow.
Alas, I found no project that moved me in that direction, - I found a Website for daily knitting that promised a free pattern for exotic Turkish style socks. I found Web Watch and two fabulous sites that promise me hours of enjoyment, reading other people's blogs (on weaving), a site with over 50,000 weaving drafts to set me dreaming, and even the promise of treasures for weavers on YouTube.
I will take my problem to bed with me, and perhaps the night will knit up all my cares and concerns, - or perhaps even weave them into a kaleidoscope of jewelled colours.
Accompanying me in my head will be the poem of Omar Khayyam which touched my awareness of time's swift flight as one grows older (older sounds better than OLD!) which I posted in my last blog.
Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly - and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.
And underlying it all will be the appeal of the Simple Life......and perhaps I will colour that bird gay and gaudy colours!!