Pic above is old and perhaps has been posted before. In a way it’s picture of me and I will leave it there. I like books and book shelves and long leggy geraniums that have lived with me forever.
Today was warm. I was outside a little bit but not too much. Maybe tomorrow will be warm too and I will be outside more. Predicting the future is an uncertain game. I am not good at it.
Tomorrow is Tuesday. Not a special day at all. What will I do? What can I do?
Make a list.
- Order $50 worth of daylilies from my favorite plant vendor. Call them up and say, ‘Please sent me $50’s worth of daylilies. Just pick them out yourselves. Send me ones you have a lot of. They are probably the ones that will grow best for me too.’ Dare me to do that?
- Set my bedroom alarm-ish clock to daylight time. I’ve been intended to do that for…. well ever since the time changed.
- Work on Thursday’s weekly grocery list. I make it on the back of an envelope and I divide it into categories – produce, groceries, meat, dairy and frozen. I had one stated by my son made notes on top of it, so I have to start again.
- Cook something low in fiber and take it to my sisterinlaw. Low fiber was today’s medical call’s instruction.
- Sit on the deck and do my daily paper’s sudoku – if it’s warm enough. It was warm enough today.
Five things might be enough to do tomorrow. I am already not playing solitaire and writing in my blue book. I gave up on walking. It’s just too much work. It’s funny how old I’ve become. Back in the old OD days I would walk 5.5 miles every day – loving every step and every view. I would pray for my friends on the big down hill that goes past my sisterinlaw’s house. Now if I walk past the mailbox to the first driveway to the abandoned neighbor’s farmstead, and back, that is all I can do. I will be 74 on my next birthday. That is pretty old but not extremely old. It will be three years since I have quit going to work every day. In that time I have gained an impossible amount of weight, and I’ve acquired some health problems. I think they relate to one another. If I were still walking five miles a day, I would not be so fat and I would have more stamina and health. You would think I could pull myself together and make myself a better person, etc. But I can’t seem to. Food and eating have swollen me to absorb all the extra time I have. I look forward to eating. I don’t mind being fat and disabled. I thought I would never get old. I was wrong.
Sorry for the complaining. I might get some of those five things done. I might eat better or walk better. It’s possible. Every day is a new day. Bless us for it.