Posted tagged ‘joy’

“Venture out at dawn, when the world is bathed in golden-ruby light and is quiet and forgiving.”

May 12, 2017

Today is a damp, chilly day. It must have rained a bit overnight as the streets were wet. The Globe reported this morning that all parts of the state are no longer in drought -condition, not a surprise given the amount of rain we’ve had. A nor’easter is due on Sunday which will bring a deluge. The sun is only a periodic visitor.

In my memory drawers, May is always a warm month. I remember riding my bike to school. I remember wearing only a light jacket. I rode under trees filled with blossoms and on petals fallen to the sidewalk. My bike flew. Spring and a bike ride brought such joy.

I have been getting up far earlier than usual, earlier than my paper delivery. I bring Gracie to the backyard and wait for her on the deck. I take in the morning while I wait. The air smells fresh, sweet. The only sounds are birds’ songs. I am glad for my sweatshirt in the early morning chill.

Gracie gets a treat when we come inside. I get coffee. I watch the news and listen for the drop of the newspapers. First is the thud from my neighbor’s paper hitting the driveway and a few seconds later my papers are delivered. They never sit long outside. My morning always starts with the papers and coffee.

I toasted an English muffin this morning and shared it with Gracie. What she didn’t know was I had hidden two of her pills in the nooks and crannies of the muffin. She scarfed the pieces down in record time. Gracie loves anything with butter and so do I.

I saw a cardinal through my window. Its red feathers stood out against the bare branches of the oak tree right by the deck making him easy to see. I need to fill the feeders. I hate that the cardinal was disappointed.

I turned off my heat, but the house got so cold last night I turned the heat back on this morning. It is still cranking hot air. I’m comfortable and warm.

 

“And never resist a perfect moment.”

March 6, 2017

Today is bright with sunshine. The sky is mostly blue. The breeze is slight, so slight only the brown leaves are ruffling. It’s a pretty day, but it’s a cold day, wintry cold. It is around 34˚.  I have nowhere I have to go today. I haven’t even gotten dressed and probably won’t. I got Gracie down the steps to the yard earlier. She does well with me beside her. She is actually going by herself. I’m just a safety net.

Yesterday we went to the dump. I had two weeks worth of recyclables and trash. It was so cold at the dump it took my breath away. An Arctic wind was blowing across the whole dump. Every stop meant freezing wind. I was quick to finish, to go back into the warm car.

In my life, I have had some perfect days and nights. I can’t tell you why as the days were all different. The feelings, though, were the same. I felt joyful in a way, happy to be alive. I was aware of everything around me. I could have been Maria twirling on the mountain.

The night in Ireland, in Youghal, is one perfect night. We ate in a small room with a peat fire burning. The aroma was wonderful. We walked upstairs and each step sloped to the middle. My room had a bed with layers of quilts and blankets. The bathroom had saloon doors which left the toilet exposed to the world. The tub was claw-footed. I took a hot bath then ran to get dressed and under the covers as there was no heat. It was early spring cold. I nestled and began to read my Peter Whimsy mystery and eat some of my fruit and nut Cadbury chocolate bar. I realized in that very moment I didn’t need anything else. What I had exactly then was perfect.

“If things are getting easier, maybe you’re headed downhill.”

August 7, 2012

Mother Nature turned off the humidity switch early last evening and cool, dry air blew through the opened windows and doors. The evening felt glorious. This morning is the same, simply beautiful. The sunlight is sharp and a breeze is blowing. It’s a day to be outside.

My car got dinged in a parking lot a few weeks ago. The car before this one I had for ten years, and it got dinged only once. This car I haven’t had but a few months, and it already needs cosmetic surgery. It went into the shop yesterday to get pretty again so I’m without a car until some time tomorrow. On Sunday I filled the larder and bought bird and pet food so I’m set to be house-bound. Mind you, I’m not complaining. I’m happy to be stuck here. You know how much I love not getting dressed and sitting around in my cozy clothes. I’ll do the usual wash up and tooth brushing and maybe I’ll even comb my hair.

My trip is less than three weeks away. I have my visas, the luggage I bought last year, mosquito wipes, anti-malarial pills and a full iPad of books. The only thing left is new underwear. My mother would be pleased.

I bought pencils, sharpeners and crayons to take with me as gifts for the local primary school in the village where I’ll be staying. Guests should never come empty-handed. Franciska, with whom I’m staying, has yet to leave the US for Ghana. She wants to be there ahead of me so she can tidy up her house and clear the yard of grass and weeds. It’s been two years since she was last home.

It still amazes me that I am back in contact with all these former students of mine, and that over the years they never forgot me just as I had never forgotten them. My memories of those days in Bolga are bright and vivid, and they have always brought me joy.

Soon enough I’ll be making more memories. I feel ever so lucky though Franciska would say I am blessed.

“Joy is the feeling of grinning inside.”

March 2, 2012

Rain maybe later tonight, but for now it has stopped. Last night the rain had an icy feel about it, and being outside felt miserable. Today is brighter with white clouds, and I’ll take it and be glad.

Gracie and I will hit the dump later today, one of her all time favorite trips. The trunk is already filled, and I just have to find the ambition.

When I was a kid, the simplest things gave me joy. I loved walking through the piles of leaves beside the sidewalk. I’d kick the piles using one foot then the other and the leaves would fly through the air to the left and the right of me. Behind me, I’d leave a trail of leaves on the sidewalk and the street.

Riding my bike down a gigantic hill always made me feel as if I would take flight. My hair would fly in the wind propelled by the speed, and my grin would get broader and broader as I went faster and faster.

Lying on my back in the coolness of the grass on a summer’s night was the best way to watch the evening’s light show courtesy of the stars and the brightness of the night sky. I could see the Milky Way filled with its blanket of stars, and if I were really lucky, I’d see a falling star and make a wish.

The days and nights were filled with the sounds of insects. At night I’d fall asleep to the chirping of the katydid though I didn’t know its name back then, and I never asked. I just loved the music. During the day it was the grasshoppers in the deep meadow grass below my house. They’d jump as I walked through the grass, and sometimes I’d catch them in my bare hands then just let them go.

Fireflies are still magical to me. I used to imagine they were fairies that looked a bit like Tinker Bell. Even now when I see one, I follow it with my eyes until it flies away out of my sight. We used to catch them and put them in a jar and just watch the lights glow for a while then we’d set them free.

I have time again to see my world more slowly and I find myself awed by the simple things, the same way as when I was a kid. The night sky gives me pause, and I stand and look at the stars and still hope to see a falling star so I can make a wish. I sit outside during the meteor showers and find myself oohing out loud at their beauty. I love to watch the snow fall at night lit by my backdoor light. The birds in the morning are my favorite singers. They give joy to the start of my day. I love to sit outside at night and listen to the insects, the frogs at the small pond and singing of the night birds. My life is filled with joy.

 

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

March 1, 2012

A late start for me today as I slept in until quite late. The rain continues. It started early yesterday and hasn’t stopped since. Gracie has yet to go outside. She detests the rain though I did notice she now goes under the deck near the stairs to do her business when I force her out. Animals are ingenious.

No birds are at the feeders. They too must be hunkered down somewhere away from the rain. The other day the birds swooped in non-stop at all three feeders. I just added a new suet feeder, but I can’t see it from here so I’ll move it after the rain stops. The feeder holds two bars of suet but it is a bit strange as the bird has to be upside down. I was assured by the man at the store that the birds don’t mind.

I never stop to think that I am in my 60’s. That has so little meaning to me. In my mind, I still think of myself as young. I know some of you will argue that 64 is still young, and I agree, but I remember thinking how old my parents were when they were in their 60’s. My dad passed away at 66, and I’m still a bit angry at all the time we missed together. 66 is far too young. I was reminded of that when I read that Davy Jones was 66 when he died yesterday. I figure he should have had at least another 15 or 20 years.

I am definitely far slower than I used to be, and my knees hurt. My mind has selective memory lapses. The other night I couldn’t remember the name of the star of The Closer and my friend Clare couldn’t either. We had to look up Kyra Sedgwick on the computer. When my sister told me my niece and her husband had decided on Declan for their baby’s name, a baby due in a few months, I told her right away that Declan was Elvis Costello’s real name. Why in the heck did I remember that and not Kyra?

When I wake up in the morning, I sometimes have to stretch to get all my parts working in sync, but I figure that’s okay. The joy of living far outweighs the aches and pains of getting older.