friends – Ink, Yarn & Beer

The End of a Year

Like most people, I look back over the past year, I look ahead to the new year. New years are like morning – something to anticipate. Yesterday is the past, and so is a past year. There is a bit of melancholy in looking back as awareness of passing time grows more acute each year but, it is always offset by the anticipation of the future. I don’t know if other people feel like that, but to me there is always an element of joyful anticipation even in times of gloom and sadness. I’ve lived long enough to know nothing lasts forever, but the patterns repeat, and therein lives hope. There is enough change and enough consistency. And I prefer to dwell on hope rather than despair – but to avoid it is foolish.

So, what has happened in this past year? For me, the most difficult thing has been the loss of my closest friend on November 30th. I am not lost because of his death, but just feeling a loneliness. On the other hand, I have rekindled a friendship from years ago that could prove to be a pleasant addition to my life. A door closes. A door opens.

I have also learned and realized a lot about my family – my parents in particular. I found two letters, one from my mother, one from my father. The first was a letter written by my mother 6 months before she married my father. The second letter was one written by my father 12 years later. While the contents are personal and private, what was most important was seeing my parents as people in a very different perspective – such different personalities and approaches to life! I think of the grasshopper and the ant in Aesop’s fables – my mother had the gaiety of the grasshopper but lacked foresight, went along for the moment, and my father was the ant, always planning and working toward the future, but often failing to value the moment he was in. (I’m sort of both!)

In some ways – perhaps in many ways – 2022 was about re-evaluating life and people. As I move more into retirement and into free time, I am less concerned with the connections -the ongoing desire for connections – with people, but more appreciative of them when they occur. It is so easy to want more from others than is realistic with copious free time, and it takes a bit of effort to rein it in. Once done, though, a bit of disappointment – but again, another door opens, and there are things to look forward to doing and experiencing.

For me, life is always a balancing act. There is sorrow and sadness, there is joy and hope. Reality is a harsh teacher, but if you pay attention, there is much to be learned and the subtle pleasures of little things – like the yellow volunteer flower on my doorstep – remind you that the small individual person, event, critter, plant, in the big, vast world has a whole universe within to be explored.

So, welcome to 2023!

Thoughts Before the Big Blow

Politics, weather, pandemic. I think it is all making me even crazier than before. We can expect 40 mph winds on Tuesday. The temperature will be cooler than the 90F of yesterday, so hopefully less chance of fires. It’s like the end times so many look forward to, but not me – I like my life! Still, there is an interesting bit of stress going on that I can only equate to living in a war zone of some sort. We just don’t know what is going to happen. I wonder if what I am feeling can be equated to what people and families went through when WW2 was beginning – a sense of unease and that the fabric of life is not what you think it is supposed to be. It’s a very strange feeling.

So, the Big Blow. Some areas are going to get 80 mph winds – not quite hurricane strength, but certainly strong. People in the midwest have gotten those just recently along with a lot of snow. That doesn’t sound pleasant at all. Can you imagine your roof flying off? I know that several years ago parts of Great Britain got them and villages were cut off and food supplies and other stuff needed coptering in. At least here we have a lot of things, and the stores are open. And no snow. Even further back, upstate New York had horrific blizzards, and livelihoods were lost amongst the farmers, especially dairies. Cows died because they couldn’t be milked without electricity.

I’m just blithering around thinking about things. Nothing profound, but I have finally had a few minutes to sit down to reflect as I have been really busy today. We had to get some tools for Josh’s car project, so we looked at plants and bulbs and seeds. Then I talked with Am, our aunt who has been working hard in the hospital caring for Covid patients. She is doing really well despite it all, and it was good to have a chance to hear how things are. Then, off to buy some computer stuff – our keyboards are worn out, and as I had to replace my old computer last week, I am still catching up with it, installing software on it, coordinating printers and scanners. It is a pain but now that things are sorted, this is my first post using the new computer, keyboard, mouse, etc. No new monitors as I got those awhile back for my birthday. Luckily, I know a fair amount about computers so it is not challenging, just time consuming.

The studio, though, has been the scene of upheaval. Computers need cords and such, and while you are down there sorting things out, you better get into the dust and debris that lurks under the desk. I did, and while it wasn’t awful, it was good to sort stuff out by vacuuming and untangling cables. Now I need to place things back where they belong so I can find a paint brush or a camera. Finally, sewing – the new space is working out well. I’ve made an apron and two pairs of jammy pants for Josh; time for me to get something!

Despite all the external upheaval, things are pleasant around here. We are fortunate to have good family and friends and good health. Not much to gripe about at all.

Time to get out on the bike for the next adventure!

A Sunday in the Sun, Wind and Rain

Weeks go by and it seems you go nowhere interesting. A trip to the market, and then a walk around the neighborhood. Oh, other things happen, like a phone call or a visit with a friend, but still, life seems uneventful. Not that I want a lot of “events” – they don’t usually bring good news – but I do like a change of scenery. So, when it happens, and the wind is up, the sun is out, the rain is falling on you, rainbows come and go, and you are pounding away on wet sand, head in the wind, life is pretty darn good. Accompanied by the esposo and friends of yore, it makes for a wonderful day. End it with someone’s excellent cooking, how can you complain?

A few weeks ago, our friends Doug and Sheelah, up in Carpinteria, invited us to visit. I’ve been friends with them since before forever, and the town they live in is a small beach community north of us by about 50 miles. I lived there when I was in college, on an avocado ranch where the laborers sang Spanish songs at 5:30 a.m. – a nice way to wake up, along with the clucking of chickens and the crowing of roosters. The beauty of Carpinteria is that it is blessed with a wonderful state park that runs along much of the city itself, moving from wide flat beaches to bluffs which overlook a seal rookery, which is home to mothers, fathers, and newborn babies in the first part of each year.

Sunday afternoon was a windy, blustery day, with remnants of storm clouds gusting in from the north, white caps out to sea, and an occasional wild sprinkling of rain. The sky, though blue, bore thick clouds, and the wind was fierce enough to blow fine sand in rivulets in front of you when your back was to the wind, and fill your eyes and mouth with grit when you were facing it. The cold, too, was biting (for us thin-blooded Californians), and an insulated, windproof jacket, along with hats and hoods made you a lot more comfortable than not. It was so cold, Sheelah went back home and changed from a down jacket to a windbreaker, hat, and long scarf. We waited in the wind for her.

As always, a beach is a treasure chest. Shells, rocks, driftwood, flotsam and jetsam. Sheelah found a beauty of a stone, a jasper veined with white, and a clam shell.

The bluffs host a variety of things. Ranches and small industry, railroad tracks, piers to launch boats for the oil rigs offshore, trails, and seals. Here we began our ascent onto the bluffs.

From here, we continued along the pathways, weaving near the edge of the bluffs and inland, the Pacific on one side, the flat land on the other. Trees vary from native Monterrey cypress (I think that is the correct name) to eucalyptus. The trees at the edge are twisted and tormented by the winds.

A bit away from the shore, sunflowers are already in bloom beneath the old eucalyptus and other coastal trees. The brilliant colors are so welcome after months of drought and brown, dried, dead plants.

The seal rookery, or sanctuary, was not very populated when we looked down at it. The tide was out, so perhaps were the seals; as well, the storms of this season may have discouraged a lot of sex in the sand and babies on the beach.

The Carpinteria Seal Sanctuary is observable from the bluffs. Pupping season begins in December. Above the sanctuary are benches and paths so the seals may be seen, but left undisturbed (one hopes) by humans. This video shows the seal sanctuary as I have seen it in earlier years.

As our earth changes and populations increase and resources lost, such sites are increasingly more important for wildlife. Below is a view from the cliffs. We saw about 4 or 5 seals, well disguised as rocks. The sanctuary is an important area for wildlife. I’ve been here in other years, and there are mothers and babies everywhere, fat and floppy on the sand.

All along the way, to and fro our 3.5 mile walk, there was much to see, whether on the phone lines or in the camping area of the state park. People were out and about, running, bicycling, and just enjoying a brisk, beautiful day.

Not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon! Doug and Sheelah are wonderful people and great friends to spend time with. We feel pretty lucky to live in such a beautiful area and have the blessing of wonderful friends and family nearby.

Disappointment & Enlightenment

Disappointment: The meetup experience did not go well.

Being interrupted and being told “you are wrong,” in no uncertain terms by an old geezer, and then being attacked by the group leader for telling the geezer to let me finish talking and stop interrupting, is wrong.

Further in the session, the geezer told someone “those are the rules” without clarification. What rules? How to put a sentence together? What do you mean? Explain, please.

My initial impression of the moderator was not impressive – he felt needy and off-balance somehow.

Facing the geezer, my first thought was here is a man used to being in power and control, who feels it is okay to interrupt others.

Rudeness and ego-centrism do not have a place in a group such as this. Other groups I have been in have not had these elements from either members or the moderator.

I am sad, too, as I had looked forward to becoming part of a community of writers. The other members of the group were good, and there was some talented writing.

Enlightenment: While disappointed by this experience, it also served to make very clear to me something which had been rumbling around in my head for some time: Scheduling things to do on my days off does not always work in my favor.

Each time I schedule something that needs some work – such as a writing meetup – it means a lot of focus on that event. If it becomes something that takes up a lot of time and energy without reward, ultimately I am exhausted. As an introvert, quiet time with self-reflection and thought is a necessity for self-renewal.

Scheduling time with people I value, doing things I enjoy, is a completely different thing. I come away refreshed and joyful.

I knew this before the meetup. I know this now even better than before. My choices are very clear.

The Elusive Word

If you have been following this blog of late, you know I have been – and am – in a funk. Being discontented with one’s life can lead to getting lost amongst the lemmings, or choosing the proverbial other road. I don’t really need to do one or the other, in a way; what I need to do is to make the choice!

Crow

Last night I went out with a friend – one of those great friends where no holds are barred, and you can just ramble and expose your thoughts and feelings without being afraid. We both were into it, and I came home feeling really good – refreshed mentally. So did she. Working so late and so long has prevented my having much contact with people I like, and now try to do something like this on a weekly basis. I’m stealing back all the little pieces of my life that disappeared over the past year.

Sure, the argument can be made that I shouldn’t have let it happen, but the fact is, it did happen. There is only so much time in the day. And there is only so much energy, too. As an introvert, “me time” has to be there before I can deal with people and be a nice person. No “me time” and I have no idea who I am.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of sleep, probably as my subconscious was working through whatever it does in dreams, the elusive word – the one-word description for what I am trying to regain – came to me: Integrity.