Tiny Joys

Do you hear soundtracks in your head as you walk through your days? I do. Maybe it’s because I listen to nostalgic music from bygone eras or watch movies with sweeping scores. Maybe it’s because I’m terribly, horribly sentimental. It might be because I see life in photographs, pictures always deserve a musical backdrop. My mind notices and frames scenes constantly. I see them, and somehow I hear them too. 

In a year that touched on what felt like every life altering circumstance possible - devastating  heartbreak, joyful celebration, challenges, changes, constant processing and adapting, I’ve been trying to get back into a pattern of the daily habits I used to hold that have fallen to the wayside. One of those habits is noting tiny joys. I try to keep it small. Just writing down three a day. Since recommitting to actually looking for them, I come across them constantly. 

A few from this past week:

The long warm shadows of the trees across the Post Office parking lot at 2pm on sunny November day. 

Leaves falling like snow when the wind blows.

And the leaves skittering across my path as I walk that sound like a childhood memory. 

The color of red across the street from where I sit and write, in one of the last trees still holding on to it’s leaves. 

Coffee “out” served in a real cup and saucer.

A greenhouse full of endless pointsettias for the coming season. 

Long hugs from my adult children. 

The new boat finally feeling like home on our overnight. 

The Jazz Holidays Radio on Pandora (snuck before Thanksgiving)

The settled feeling of drying orange slices for the holidays, not because I want orange slices but because the act of producing them over a long six hours feels like living in the moment. 

Trading two minute end of day foot rubs with someone you love. 

Warm light pouring from evening windows during the longer nights. 

The way boiling water sounds different when you pour it. 

There are so many things to notice that can shift our day, our mindset either way, aren’t there? Let’s keep looking for the good ones. 

Bookstack

 

Just finished (Audiobook): Count My Lies by Sophie Stava

Currently listening to: The Serpent And The Pearl by Kate Quinn

And in the queue: A Murder In Paris by Matthew Blake

Rosario

We got engaged at a party, on an island, at a resort, set in the most beautiful bay on the night the world was supposed to (electronically) end - Y2K. Spoiler alert, it did not.

In the 25+ years since, we’ve been back to that same resort every year by boat in the marina or ferry/car or tiny airplane every year, sometimes multiple times a year. We raised our babies who turned into kids, who turned into young adults on the waters in the bay and the trails in the woods leading to the interior lake and  beyond. It’s fair to say it’s probably on all of our favorite places list. It is STACKED with memories and especially dear to us. 

The resort has changed hands a few times over the years. Each time we hold our breath that this beautiful place that means so much to us can be restored and saved. To be fair, the marina has seen some needed updates and is holding steady. But the other buildings, the historic mansion that holds the dining room and spa as well as museum section, and hotel block, not so much. It is slowly falling apart and it has been so sad to watch. The grounds and views are still as beautiful as ever - nature is holding up her end nicely. But deferred maintenance is taking its toll on the structures.

 We were there this past weekend and it was a little heartbreaking. How can a place go from being vibrant and bustling to a visibly deteriorating shell in a short 25 years? We were booked in for two nights but left after one - not being able to tolerate the musty hotel room despite it’s perfect on the water view. It felt like we were turning our back on a loved one - but also, just no. We will stick to visiting by boat now. The current developer plans look wonderful, but only time will tell if they can pull off the miracle needed to restore the property. Our fingers are crossed. 

A Quote That Changed My Life

Every once in a while I come across a quote that stops me in my tracks and demands to be read, considered and reread. Consumed and saved as if to make it a part of me.This one found me in the fall of 2007 just around this time of year.  You might remember an Old Netflix show called Call The Midwife. It is a very well done series (highly recommend!) based on the first book in a trilogy by Jennifer Worth titled, “Call the Midwife - A Memoir of Birth, Joy, and Hard Times” set in post WWII London, which is where I first encountered these life changing heartfelt words:

“We can decide to be happy.

Make much out of little. 

Embrace the warmth of our ordinary days. 

Life unfolds as a mystery, an enterprise who’s outcome cannot be foretold. 

We do not get what we expect. 

We stumble on cracks, are faced with imperfection. 

Bonds are tested, and tightened. 

And our landscapes shift, in sunshine and in shade. 

There is light. 

There is. Look for it. 

Look for it shining over your shoulder, on the past. 

It was light where you went once. 

It is light where you are now. 

It will be light, where you will go again.” 

-Jennifer Worth

I remember just being stunned by the concept. We can choose to look for the light in life. We can accept what comes and and still find the light behind, within, and ahead of it. I wrote it down immediately and have always come back to it. 

November Begins

November might just be my favorite month of the year. It comes in so quietly but soon is filled with the hum of change. It gets darker, but also shifts lighter as the leaves glow luminous and bright on softly raining days and dance to pull your attention through windows on blustery ones. More candles are lit and twinkle lights are slowly added. While it's always a little sad to put away the summer activities I love and say goodnight to my garden friends that bring me such peace, November brings it's own version of things I need. It's time to rest November says. It's time to slow down. 

I was sitting down with my calendar the other day working on putting some, “Look Forward To’s” in place for the coming months and little bits of things started popping into my peripheral thoughts. After the first few I decided to make a list for November so I would remember to do them. 

- Mail hand written letters or cards weekly 

(This kind of feels imperative to me after reading Denmark is no longer delivering letters due to decreased demand due to the digital age. Use it or lose it? That seems so sad to me and even though I'm just one person mailing post, I hope to always be able to do this. Hand written letters found in the piles of advertisements and bills are such a treat.)

- Donate to the local food bank

(Will be doing this in both my community and one with greater need)

- Take a holiday card photo

- Shop our local garden center's holiday shop for a new icicle for my Christmas tree 

- Make a date with a girlfriend

 

I also have another more ambitions big picture Fall bucket list that includes things like:

- Take a cooking class

- Make caramel sauce (complete!)

- Try out a new prospective desert for holiday dinners (Tried two! Complete!)

- Restock the pantry and fridge with base ingredients and make the first soup of the season (complete!)

- Visit a museum 

- Buy a red umbrella (complete!)

- Make a holiday wreath

- Start writing again (Complete!) 

So, between keeping our home running, getting homemade meals on the table, figuring out quality time with a traveling spouse, connecting with family, doctors appointments, local Women's Club meetings, self-care doing, and last minute little trip planning to use up our allotted vacation time before the end of the year, this is pretty much what's on my plate in the next few weeks. 

Navigating Dark Season

Are we ready?

The short days of the darker winter months lay ahead and I find myself reaching for my mental tools. The ones honed after a lifetime of navigating these literal seasons. How can I brace my body and mind for a stretch of months I know are important for rest and yet can often be so trying. Thankfully I have learned a few things over the years. 

My loose and flexible plan consists of:

1). I try to get 15+ minutes of fresh air every day. I have found, for me, this is just as effective if not more so than using a light therapy box. Put on a coat, put on some warm shoes, grab an umbrella (yes, my coats have hoods, but nobody likes a wet face, I go ahead and use the umbrella and maybe even have one in a fun color or pattern if it suits me), set a timer and get outside. I get outside for as long as I can, every day if I can. Of course there will be days one wants to pass on this, on those days, I bundle up in a warm coat or blanket and stand just outside the doorway. I try to leave screens out of it if possible and let my mind wander. But often, especially if I'm going for a longer walk, it helps to listen to music or an audiobook/program. Fifteen minutes passes in a blink. Taking some deep breaths you feel your body start to relax. I set 15 minutes as my minimum and on my busier or more tired days this is enough. But generally I find I crave even more time outside. 

2). I try to read twenty minutes a day. So many of us are out of the habit of reading with so many readily available screens to capture our attention. Capture and dilute. Capture and diminish. Reading lights up parts of the brain that screens cannot. Reading helps us focus and think creatively, effectively, and efficiently in other parts of our lives. Reading helps us de-stress, de-tox, reset and recover. Reading is a great way to break up the longer evenings and darker nights of the late fall and winter months. I've found it to be very settling. 

3). I try to learn something new or fine tune/step up something I've been learning. This can be anything. A language. Cooking or making something new. Learning to use a computer program or internet application. Crafting, building, garden research, photography, or fitness. If I try something new, don’t enjoy it, I try something else. Giving my mind and body something to do is a positive way to direct my energy. 

4). I get my calendar out and plan some, “Look Forward To’s”. These don’t have to be trips or expensive events. I plan a walk with a friend, an outing with a family member or a small gathering in or outside of our home. I pllan a movie night or plan to cook a meal or when to plant things. Having concrete things to look forward to really helps me move through the darker months. 

5). I look for positive things to focus on. I reset my thoughts a bit. I try to replace negative words like, “gloomy” with more poetic words like "moody”, or dare I suggest a stretch to, "cozy". Not feeling that enthusiastic? I replace negative thoughts and words with neutral words. It’s not gloomy, it’s simply dark. It’s not a gross day, it’s simply raining. I try to remember, what you tell yourself becomes true. If I tell myself it’s miserable every day, I will become miserable. If I tell myself I hate the winter months every day, that negativity will seep into other parts of my thinking and definitely affect my mood. Depending on where you live, the darker months will be anywhere from ¼ or ½ of your year. This translates to  ¼ or ½ of your life.  I definitely don't want to be miserable for half my life.  I can choose something different. So, I look for and notice the things I DO like during this season. I like warm drinks, and the glow of street lamps on dark afternoons. I like the way frozen puddles crunch when you step on the edges of them. I like soup, pajama sets, socks, and the way warm air puffs white on cold days. If I look for things I like on unlikable days, both obvious and not, I start noticing of them and it changes the day. 

6). I light a lot of candles and turn on lamps. A warm cast of light just makes a huge difference in how the house feels. Welcoming and warm - in an emotional way. 

These are all pretty basic, but somehow they have all helped me immensely. 

Shall We Just Be Chatty Then?

 

"You should write again", he said. "You should write again", she said. 

Should I? Should we just be chatty then? Shall we make this me, just writing letters to you?

Life ten+ years on from my last post here has seen many changes. 

Parenting through the teenage years. 

Another two moves (away, then back where we started). 

An empty nest. 

The Covid years. 

Multiple surgeries. 

One child's wedding and another's career building far, far away. 

Some amazing travel. 

I've often often thought about writing it all down but just couldn't get a grasp on sitting down and doing it. Most of it ended up in Instagram posts in clips and snippets.  

It feels like the right time to give it a go again though. In a different world I might sit down and write you a lengthly letter each week and send it through the post. I'm more of a card sender these days, but would still love to invite you into my world. So let's just be chatty then. 

Take care til next time,

J