Tag: gratitude

Playtime

I start my day with the morning newspaper, then watch a little news commentary on television. Mostly, I enjoy this routine, but sometimes the bad news is overwhelming. Sometimes, a body just needs some playtime. So, today’s blog is dedicated to my cats. I hope readers will enjoy a little downtime with my furry critters.

cat as toddlerPlayful cats make as much mess as a playful toddler!

Not sure about this white stuff!

 

 

 

 

Oh, boy, Christmas!

 

Time for a little music.

                                                                                                                              Aren’t we sweet?

 

I read an article the other day where a woman whose family had contracted COVID remarked that they were lucky they had a yard where they could go outdoors.  As a farm girl I can’t imagine not having a yard, but looking at the high rise buildings in our cities it is clear that many, many people do not have that luxury. It reminded me to be grateful for even the smallest things–like pets. 

I hope all my readers see blessings, find something to smile about and look forward with hope today.

 

Visits: 69

Oh, My Aching Back

I’ve had a miserable week. Every muscle in my back went into spasm and refused to let go. There was no comfortable position, not standing, not sitting and not lying down. Sleep? Forget it. Fifteen minutes maximum before I had to change positions. Even muscle relaxants had no effect. 

Now, there isn’t a writer alive who hasn’t experienced back pain at one time or another. Many, like Jane Friedman have written about it. The web is full of recommendations for exercises, ergonomics, stretches, treadmill desks, physiotherapy, massage and snake oil. I’ve had that kind of back pain. The kind where some stretches, or a gentle walk will ease it. Movement is definitely a go-to response for muscle tension.

This time, though, the pain was different. There was no stretch that touched it. It didn’t come from my hamstrings or my quads or my sacroiliac. And it didn’t start while I was at the computer. It came on gradually as I spent a few days in the kitchen. I processed a ton of zucchini and buckets of blackberries. We have enough soup to last the whole winter, not to mention baking and quiche. My shelves of preserves are sagging with summer’s goodness.

And my aching back is killing me!

 

I hope you’re feeling sorry for me now. 🙂 However, the point of this blog is not to generate sympathy, although that is nice. No, I thought I’d share some of my coping mechanisms for anyone else who has gone into total back spasm.

  • The first thing to know is that movement is your friend. Any movement. Walk up the stairs, walk out to the garden, deadhead a few flowers, go to the mailbox. Nothing too strenuous but anything that puts the body in motion.
  • intervals. No more than fifteen minutes in any one position. So, fifteen minutes at the computer, fifteen minutes at the stove, fifteen minutes lying on the floor with your legs elevated. Even if the position feels good to begin with, you can’t stay there. Those back muscles are really good at knotting up again.
  • Heat. A heating pad may help, but it can also aggravate. If you lie on a hot lump, your back muscles are apt to protest even more strenuously. Try to get a very thin heating pad if you want to use one.
  • Massage. I have a massaging chair. Sounds like heaven, doesn’t it, but even there, too much does more harm than good. I only used the gentle, rolling cycle. No thumping or tapping. And not for very long.
  • Complain, loudly. Everyone will avoid you and you can wallow in your misery.

  But, you say, I’m on deadline.  First off, be thankful there is an editor/reader/publisher/ agent who cares enough about your work to give you a deadline. Then figure out how to put the words on the page in short bursts.

Notice I said words on the page.

  • A lot of writing consists of thinking. You can do that in any position.
  • You can read or listen to audio books. Other people’s words can jolt loose your own.
  • You can jot notes to yourself while standing at the counter.
  • You can compose scenes in your head, so when you have that fifteen minute splurge at the computer the words will fly off the ends of your fingers.
  • Remember the “starving artist” meme, and revel in your aching back. Maybe all that discomfort will bring a new level of truth to your words.
  • Describe in every agonizing detail what your pain feels like. Who knows, you might use that description in your thriller where the hero is tied up for long hours. 

I’m starting to feel better — thank you for asking. I’m grateful for the bounty of my garden and the preserves in my pantry. I’m grateful for my steamer and my canner and those stupid lids that won’t seal. A positive mind-set can reduce pain and stress.

Now, I’m off to practice gratitude by walking to the mailbox and back. 

Wishing you all a healthy back and the fruits of the garden.

 

Visits: 645

Social Distancing Blues

flatten the curveSo, how are you all doing with this social distancing thing?

 

 

 

Here’s how I’m coping.

  • As soon as someone says, “stay home,” I want desperately to go out.  
  • I wander about the house looking at the chores I could do, but not actually doing any of them.
  • I find myself compulsively watching newscasts repeating the same information over and over.
  • I should be glad of the extra writing time, but can’t settle at my computer.
  • I sleep too much in the day, then can’t sleep at night.
  • I want to go out for lunch even though I don’t “do” lunch on weekdays.
  • I whine that the library isn’t open, even though I have a stash of books at home.

You get the picture — I am the opposite of a heroine!

But, I want to do my part to flatten the curve, so I’m staying put. I don’t feel vulnerable for myself, but I have a lot of older friends and others with asthma or on chemotherapy. No way will I be the one that spreads the virus to them. I also have family in the healthcare system, sure don’t want to add to their workload or put them in danger if supplies of masks, etc. run out.

Now, after a week of moaning and avoiding my fellow humans–I don’t have little ones or elderly relatives in my home– I’ve resorted to my failsafe coping mechanism — lists.  

I’ll share some of mine here in hopes they’ll help others find peace at home.

  • Gratitude  — I’m warm. I have enough to eat. I have a roof over my head.
  • I have endless ways to “socialize” electronically.
  • I have some new, unread books and several shelves full of old favourites.
  • The cats are endlessly amusing and nice for cuddles.
  • There’s more, but you get the idea.
  • Chores — Adapt the old housewife’s routine. Monday is wash day, Tuesday is ironing, Wednesday is mending(sewing),Thursday is shopping, Friday is cleaning, Saturday for baking and Sunday for church. I may substitute “exercise” for “ironing” or rearrange the shopping and cleaning,  but you get the idea. Make a schedule and write it down.
  • Reach out to friends. We can’t go to church physically, but we can watch a service on television, or get one on-line. Our minister sent out a youtube of his prayers and sermon on Sunday morning. I watched it during our regular church time. Then, as if it was coffee hour after the service, I telephoned several church friends just to check in. They were all grateful for the call.
  • Keep my family close. My brothers live four provinces away, but we all managed a phone call last week. They are healthy, I am healthy, and we are reminded that we are family–a blessing like no other. 
  • Write. Just like in the days before COVID-19, my writing  benefits from routine. I’ve resolved to watch only one newscast in the morning, then go to my desk.  Somedays I stay there until I’ve reached a certain word count, other times I set a time limit. I’m not inflexible with my “rules” but it sure helps to have personal guidelines in place, especially in times of stress.

We are having beautiful, spring weather. Gardening isn’t on that list of housewifely chores, but I’ve been outside, digging in the dirt, encouraging the crocus and daffodils. I’ve walked around the property and made plans for the vegetable garden. I’ve pruned the roses and the fruit trees. Like all gardeners and farmers, I’m convinced that next year,  next month, next week, will be better. The world needs optimists!

Keep safe, everyone. Wash your hands. Don’t touch your face. Stay home with a good book.

If you have a great way to keep calm and useful during this pandemic, please share in the comments section. It’s a safe way to be social.♥

Visits: 157

Canadian Thanksgiving

For those of you who don’t live in Canada, let me explain that we celebrate Thanksgiving — a harvest festival– on the second Monday of October. It’s a great time to give thanks as the garden crops are safely stored, the apple and pear trees and begging to be picked and pumpkins brighten the farmer’s fields with their stunning orange. Not only that, but the trees are turning colour. It is a most beautiful time of the year. Who wouldn’t give thanks.

Traditionally, we celebrate with a big turkey dinner with friends and relatives. We eat too much, enjoy pumpkin pie with whipped cream and then go back and snare a few more bites. I’m writing this post while still feasting on left over turkey. I love turkey sandwiches.

Of course, the whole point of the day is to remind us to be grateful for the many blessings in our lives. Here is my list of writerly gratitudes.

  • Great books. This year I’ve found myself lost in a story over and over again. I’m so grateful to those authors who churn out a compelling tale that takes me beyond myself.
  • Writer friends. We’re a strange breed, we writers. We live in our heads most of the time. We’re always wondering “what if . . .?” It’s good to have company in the wilderness.
  • The internet. For all it’s flaws and dangers — and there are many– the internet allows me to look up facts in a few minutes rather than the hours needed to go to a library and find the proper reference book. It also allows me to stay in touch with all those writer friends, from Australia to my own back door.
  • Libraries. My own library has reorganized itself, much to my chagrin, to be a “happening place” with a very meagre supply of actual books. I hope that is an anomaly. I love walking into a well stocked library and browsing the stacks. Who knows what gem will appear?
  • Authors who share. As well as reading many great books from excellent authors, I’ve been able to attend workshops from first rate teachers. I can read blogs daily, weekly, or on occasion from people who understand both the craft and business of books. I can send an e-mail to someone I’ve never met and get a helpful reply. Authors truly are terrific.  As a side note, Margaret Atwood has just won her second Booker Prize for Literature.  She is donating her share to the Canadian Indigenous charity, Indspire, one she has previously helped with her late friend and First Nations leader, Chief Harry St. Denis.    
  • All those scribes from every time and place who “wrote it down” so that succeeding generations will know the facts and the stories and the details of everyday life that the historians might leave out.

Happy post Thanksgiving to everyone. May your shelves be filled with lovely books and your mind spin out stories to transform the world.

P.S. Feel free to share your own writerly thanksgivings in the comments section.

Visits: 164

Thanksgiving

Practicing gratitude is always a good idea, but here, in Canada, we set aside the second weekend in October to give thanks particularly for the harvest.  This is a wonderful season of the year, warm days, cold nights, the leaves turning to scarlet and gold, and the bounty of field and garden coming to fruition.  Thanksgiving is one of my favourite holidays, not only because I love the harvest, but because it’s an excuse to feast with friends and family, to have a day off work and be done.  No weeks of shopping, baking, wrapping, decorating, concert-going and entertaining. Décor can be as simple as a pumpkin on the doorstep or coloured leaves scattered across the dining room table.  And when it’s over, it’s over.  Cook the pumpkin and make pie.  Throw the leaves in the compost, and life goes back to normal.

I might sound a bit like a curmudgeon and I do love Christmas, but I feel the “festivities” have replaced the “festival.” Thanksgiving, so far, has escaped that fate, although I have friends who love to ramp up the decorations.

While Thanksgiving in Canada celebrates the harvest of food crops, it doesn’t hurt to remember the other harvests in our lives.  For a writer, a finished manuscript it a lot like harvest – a project that has been seeded and tended and weeded and cultivated and finally comes to fruition.  For a knitter it could be a year’s worth of handknit socks, or afghans or dishcloths.  For a potter it could be store full of thrown, fired, painted, glazed and fired again pottery.

In our lives we have relationships to nurture and be thankful for. Memories of loved ones who have passed but who still bless our spirits. Family who may frustrate and delight us in the space of a few minutes but who are “ours” bound together for life in the rich soup that is parents and children, cousins and aunts, in-laws and steps, siblings by birth or adoption.  I’m never-endingly grateful for the messy, swirling mass of humanity that is my family.

I count Canada among my blessings, a beautiful land where we promote peace with our enemies and foster friendship with our neighbours.

My church– where I worship without fear– nurtures my soul and surrounds me with fellowship.

Newscasts of the day are filled with horrors, disasters, and evil deeds. It is easy to believe that the world is a dark and terrible place.  As an antidote to that litany of grief, go count the pumpkins, and practice gratitude for the deeds that are loving, the people who race to help when disaster strikes, and for the everyday moments of compassion, heroism, and generosity that never make it to the nightly newscast. Those moments give us hope, they deserve our attention, and must be on our gratitude lists.

Hope your Thanksgiving was filled with warmth and laughter, good food and good friends – and maybe a good book.

Visits: 205

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