Views from Annie's Cabin

miscellaneous musings on aging and living and loving

HOLIDAY—WORK DAY

HOLIDAY—WORK DAY

Good, bad, and in between. Father’s Day. For my husband who’s still a father on this good earth.

IMG_0150River & Rocks

Up at the crack of dawn because I had my buddy coming up at 7:00 to help stabilize my new rock patio. He was on time and ready to go but general consensus around here was that we’d better hold off for a while and think it through more-better. It’s just a mess of rocks laid out over an uneven ground so it kind of rocks and rolls and I was going to have him fill in between all the rocks with river sand—primarily to discourage the snakes who might find living under a couple hundred cool damp rocks to their summer liking. And we went round and round about the pros and cons of this that and the other, so I finally asked my buddy to split some wood for winter kindling instead. Which needed to be done, too, but wasn’t nearly as satisfying a project…..Alas, he too, had his opinion on the rock patio and it aligned with both the other men’s!   So the day began with defeat. And I’m prone to sulking a bit when I meet with defeat…..

But then the day got wonderful. We drove down the mountain to church in Greenville, at my old home church where all my folks are resting, and where both my husband and I’ll rest beside them one day ourselves. Service in the chapel by the new retired, volunteer priest—-whom we went particularly to see and hear. Lifted and gladdened our hearts. Filled me up and smoothed out the rough edgy ripples of the morning.

Then onward to a noisy crowded lunch gathering for Father’s Day—parents, grandparents, children, and various other allied family members from all over the world it seemed. And a Bloody Mary bar—where they bring your choice of vodka to the table and then steer you up to the bar where you “build” whatever you want. Pretty amazing. Cold glasses with condensation all up and down them, slippery as an eel. And after I’d built a real blushing beauty, complete with olives stuffed with feta and blue cheese (!) one of the more enthusiastic of our party encircled me in a great big bear hug and all of a sudden CRASH! BANG! SHATTER! SPLASH!—- my glass flew out of my hand and hit the cement floor like a huge wet red atomic bomb. Lovely. But my partner-in-crime actually saved the moment by saying” well I guess this means—-Let the party begin!” I was horrified and chagrined but no one’s dress was ruined and the mess was cleaned up in a heartbeat and no one was hurt. But I couldn’t help thinking, maybe I should’ve stayed in bed this Sunday morning and slept in late to welcome the sun when he was fully up and not just a dark whisper of a promise, and then maybe I’d not have had such a fussy hissy-fit but rather a sweet calm laid-back day.

Then I remembered the heart-swelling service this morning. The readings, the Gospel, the hymns, the sermon, and I realized I would have missed the most heart- soothing part of the day—of Life really—the part that always smooths out the jagged edges of day-to-day living. And I said to myself (again), “Self, this is important for you to remember…..Now, Looky heah, chile, I been telling you to Control less and Pray more. And you see—I ain’t alone! Now will you just lissen up?!” And nodding meekly in agreement, I sighed a big breathy sigh and coasted smoothly up the mountain and through the rest of my Sunday….floating on the wings of prayer.

SAM_0090

 

 

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Flunking Retirement part 1

ON FLUNKING RETIREMENT

Does every apassionata flunk retirement? I’m tottering on the cusp again, it seems. But this time, wholly intent on leaving behind the grimy world of bureaucrats, committees, and politicians, I’m poised to fly into a world of my own creation. Can I do it? Will I do it?

Flunking retirement means never having learned the most important one-syllable word in the English language: No. It means feeling guilty when pressed by well-meaning people. It means that sinking feeling in your gut when you realize you’ve just signed on to another huge commitment…in time….which means another huge commitment of loss…in time…towards what you really want to do.

So here I am today….thinking, writing, musing, trying to figure it all out. And I’m suddenly finding myself in that comfortable place William Faulkner called “middle-aging.” Not actually old, not actually young, but being sort of where Merlin was in his young Arthur years. Which, according to what I know about Merlin, was a real good perch in time, curiously and fabulously enlightened by varied perspectives (such as the inner world of fishes and owls and hawks).

So now I’m faced with the question of what to do with these, umm, varied perspectives from the high perch atop this hilltop of middle-aging. How best to sort them out, make sense and value of them, shape them into words of philosophical wisdom, or perhaps even better….philosophical good humor?

Here, gentle reader, is where you and I shall try to Zen forward….

Zenning out...

Zenning out…

I shall try to assemble these ephemeral vagaries a day at a time, even perhaps a moment at a time, as I happen to find myself in the midst of the light of revelation or the agonies of reality. But whatever happens, it’ll be a good ride…. going straight to what the heart knows and understands as ultimate truth (based on wild and varied perspectives, of course).

 

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The World Is Too Much with Me

Today just fell apart, the way days sometimes do—-so, here I am, faced with the art of salvaging what’s left of it…for the best.  Beginning with a half-split of champagne in a lovely stemmed glass of my grandmother’s, etched with flowers.  The bubbles really do help….charming in and of themselves, they burst with glory and fun in every sip.  Ahhhh…better already!

Today was to be the first day of the rest of my life retired…a life free from the tawdry pace of the rat-race world. And i was going to build the creek path out to the river, rearranging all the huge boulders that fell off the mountain in the terrifying flood and landslide of last August.  Had a good guy helping me….except he was a no-show.  Hence the champagne.  I needed to turn my mind from anger to something positive.  Whenever I need to do that, I retreat to Abbey, my Book Barn, sit in my corner easy chair and pull a book from the library shelves and read something unplanned…..always straightens out my day.

SAM_0107 SAM_0110

And suddenly, at 2:30, my friend appears…and a magical creation is taking place beside the river!  What yesterday looked like a moonscape from the landslide is transforming into a rock patio leading out to the swimming hole! We sent him home with supper for him and his wife about nightfall….grilled chicken and vegetables and still-warm shortbread.  And now, today, we’ve been out lifting, toting, and placing river rocks since 7AM this morning—in spite of the rain!

So….guess Life has tried to teach me yet another lesson.  (Which I seem to have to learn over and over and over again.)  Just embrace the unexpected.  I need to Vagabond more and Control less.  My first day of “retirement”…….think I’ll go jump in that swimming hole and think great thoughts!


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