I have finally given away all my letterpress equipment.

People have asked why, but I don’t have a good answer. As I near 70, I had random thoughts of how David would deal with all of it if something happened to me. I also realized I was not as excited about getting out all the necessary accessories- ink, mineral spirits, type, paper, etc–to begin the process. And it was always messing up my kitchen.

So now I have order. My kitchen is clean and my second bedroom where I stored type and business supplies is once more a bedroom. We’ve set up bunkbeds for the grandchildren and a corner for me to sit and ponder: What’s Next?

I know I need to be creative. Write? Paint? Do calligraphy? Create handmade cards? Knit?

For now, I am going to simply sit.

The last few months have meant self care and mindfulness as I’ve worked through health issues. I am almost finished, aside from one last appointment. With nothing serious on the horizon, I’ve worked on inner issues– food, rest, and therapy.

And I’m planning a trip back to that beautiful place pictured above, my childhood home I’ve inherited. It’s not on the water, but close. I can hear ocean waves when I fall asleep. My breathing changes when I’m there.

“You need to know that lovely places exist and you can go there, when things go wrong, and it’s a place of solace.”
― Charlotte Eriksson

We overcooked the turkey. We served old green beans. The potatoes were cold. The cranberry was too tart. The bed we put together seemed like it might collapse. I was exhausted.

But I think I did better this year. Because I kept saying, “so what.” And I was able to laugh though most of it. In years past, my anxiety would get the best of me. I started to feel a little heart racing yesterday, but I was able to calm myself down pretty quickly.

We had a great time with the Morgan grandbabies in their matching PJ’s. The game on the porch with the Baltimore Graces was such fun! And today the Charlottesville Graces arrive for another meal that may or may not be cooked well.

I really don’t enjoy cooking. My kids know that. My husband knows that. I don’t know why I keep trying except I have this vision in my head of some perfect Christmas with a perfect meal and perfect gifts. What I am realizing is that imperfect is just fine.

In fact, next year we are going with frozen lasagna or pizza. Because it’s the games, the hugs, and the laughs that matter. Memories. It’s unfortunate that some things take so long to learn. But I am still learning and that’s what counts.

Perfection doesn’t exist. And it doesn’t matter.

“You don’t pass or fail at being a person, dear.” ― Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

This fall I decided to make many appointments. I wanted to try to resolve some health issues I was having.

I wasn’t experiencing anything major- a little dizziness, a few headaches in the morning, a sore tooth. Anyway, each appointment meant a followup. And so on and so on.

When I was close to finishing the appointments (finding nothing huge, by the way), I fell. Yup, right on my knee. And it’s taken me three weeks to not limp! I was determined not to make another appointment, so I’ve babied it, iced it, and basically not slept well.

My exercise plan was shot since I couldn’t really do pilates or power walking. So this morning, I am beginning again. Because at my age, any break in the routine sends me backward. I’ll be gentle with myself today so I don’t re-injure the knee. But I need to stretch and move before I become frozen.

Just when I thought I was getting back into shape, I am starting over.

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What I am reading/listening to:

Curable App (A different approach to your pain)

The podcast that goes along with Curable: Tell Me About Your Pain

Faith After Doubt by Brian McLaren because, well, there’s lots of doubt.

Make it Maya Such a sweet, funny young woman who shows easy vegan recipes. I’d be a vegan just because of her videos!

Update: My fun and kind-hearted pilates instructor reaffirmed to me this morning my leg pain is probably a tendon and will just take time to heal. Nevertheless, it was good to move.

I feel so much better when I don’t have my nightly cocktail. I know, that sounds so superficial, so silly.

But I do miss my bourbon.

As I walk around downtown #fxbg, I think, “Oh, I want to visit that outside restaurant, enjoy a drink on the patio and watch the world go by.” And then I remember: I can’t.

I’m hoping these diet restrictions won’t last forever, but I will never go back to daily alcohol.

It’s not just bourbon, though. I’ve also given up dairy and gluten and most sugar. I watch how many fructans I eat as well as making sure I drink enough water. Balancing alkaline foods with fodmap restrictions isn’t easy. But my gut has stabilized.

Journaling every day helps me keep track of what works (and what doesn’t). So does starting my day with warm lemon water.

Keeping track of all this is like a full time job. Good thing I’m retired!