"Tell me the best thing that happened to you this week," I asked Facebook. I asked in 2019, and again in 2021 and 2022, just so I could hear happy news about people thriving, at least in the moment. It's what I needed to hear in one big slurp, in view of everything else, like these times. You know.
Author: Nancy Friedland
I thought, in passing, one October morning, that I would not write anything that day. This is rare for me, but I had nothing to say. I felt wrung dry and wordless. Alan was isolating due to Covid, and I'd been on my own for a while.
When Things Go Right
It's been a good week. Or a mostly good week. A pretty gosh darn fairly good week. I pause and take notice because of how I moped as the season turned, along with covid and politics and blah blah blah. But sometimes you just get a break, and things look pretty good, so I'll take some time to feel the joy. And write this quickly, in case.
mid-autumn the carelessness of leaves -- Gregory Longnecker, tinywords.com Most front yards in my Portland neighborhood are a sea of leaves scattered helter skelter; mosaics in shades of ochres, browns, yellows and burgundies, arrayed in various sizes, shapes, and arrangements.
I’m surrounding myself with family today, with too much delicious home cooked food, with old and new traditions. We can’t seem to gather each year without Nana Bea’s rolls, Mom’s jello mold, Karen’s challah stuffing, and this year’s new trick, Mushroom Wellington à la Alan. “Reviving family recipes honors your ancestry, but more than that, it makes manifest the inconceivable truth. This one meal is the fulfillment of infinite lifetimes.” says Karen Maezen Miller. My forebears would be proud and happy, as am I, mostly. Is there always a caveat?
Get a Grip Let It Go
It's only early November, I remind myself. Not winter, not February, not Iceland, I'm not homeless, the election will be over soon, and the only stuck thing about me is my mind. Get a grip. Time for a retreat.
On This Day
Early November, pre-election time. Some years I'm poised at the edge, days fraught with worry or full of hope. Other years I pass the time with lighthearted endeavors. I don't actually remember - it's what I posted on Facebook.
Lower the Bar
It was a day for sunlight, one of few in a streak of cool rainy days. I went looking for an infusion - of yellow sun and leaves, of warm, blue skies, optimism, breath, whatever the forest had to offer, I needed it and would gladly gather it up.
Living in a Poem
Our hazy 80 degree Augtober days are coming to an end. The rains march inexorably closer, and will put out fires, clear the air, and bring… what, I don't know. Naomi Shihab Nye says, “You are living in a poem.”
Mother Lode and Caregiving
Here's a great book I think you should read. Yes you. Everyone. It's called Mother Lode: Confessions of a Reluctant Caregiver, by Gretchen Staebler. Here's a story about our own experience with caregiving, and why you should read this book.