I’m swearing that this time I’ll be organized. It used to be when something sold I’d panic because half the time I had no idea where the object got off to. Can you imagine?
In this house, with windows everywhere and decorated walls, taking professional-looking product shots is challenging. Not this time! I’m going to dedicate one of the boys’ rooms to photography. Whee! Lights and props out (and left out) is a prescription for ease.
I have a notebook ready for pen and paper notes. No more languishing listings! But more to the point of a well-groomed shop, everything’s gonna be done on my phone. That’s how I know it’s gonna be different. A whole new level of access and attention!
(As readers here might know, I have an inexplicable aversion to sitting at the desktop).
Hospital update: it looks like N might be staying through the weekend. Longer than I expected. While her new subsidized housing is great, with the move she lost the neighbors who used to check in on her cat. Damn!
The nurses and doctors are taking good care of my sister. That’s something to be grateful for.
Lastly, walking Finn an hour ago this happened: a big green monster of a garbage truck barreled past on its hungry quest for abandoned Christmas trees. Usually these trucks leave a malodorous trail. Imagine my delight to smell balsam instead — great heady wafts of it lasting the entire block.
AND, just as that pleasant sensation unfolded at street level, a red tailed hawk flew directly overhead, close — just above the power lines.
How about that?
Ran to the store near the lions to get my new calendar. Does that make the new year official?
Yesterday, some of us stood on the corner near Rep Kennedy’s office. I dashed off to writing class, late, while others met with our rep. Does that make the new political season official?
Also yesterday: Pelosi was sworn in as Speaker of the House, ushering in a season of HOPE and accountability.
(Year-end review produced this gratitude-soaked realization: I’ve needed no major dental work for the last two years. Ahhhh!)
Time to get back at it. It’s easier to pick up the needle than the pen, but both are in hand again.
Reading for the new year will be facilitated by the generosity of others. I’ve devoured three from this glorious pile already.
It took time to make all the calls — to the caseworker at the hospital, the caseworker at the caregiving agency, the O-2 people, the nurses at Davenport 7, my sister, and then all of them again. I had the time.
When the scanner on our printer didn’t work, I took pictures of her eight page health care proxy and emailed them (today’s FAX?). My sister turns 64 today and is waiting to get the okay to go home, which because of her oxygen needs, will be by ambulance.
I grocery shopped early, made lentil soup midday, and lamb for dinner. Calls all in between. Here, we all read and watched a little TV in a comfortable, restorative quiet.
I am ever so grateful.
For these legs that walk. For a body I can maneuver in and out of cars. For the car. For money to buy food, including lamb, which I love. For a pile of Christmas novels, one of which I finished yesterday.
I am grateful for the health care professionals that took over ordering the home oxygen and guaranteed that it would be in place at my sister’s return (I was struggling to figure out how to make that happen). I am grateful for the nurses, doctors, and social workers who know what to do and do it well, even on Christmas Eve and Day. I am grateful for Medicare and MassHealth. The costly intervention will not cost my sister a single penny. And good thing, too, because she has no spare pennies.
We will bring champagne and cookies, order Japanese for lunch, and deliver — you guessed it — another owl!
(I better post this now because a trio of leaf blowers over at the school and day three of tree work are getting on my nerves. And my sister just called to report not just delays in her release but idiotic tinkering with her meds).
Oh but look what awaits on the glossy sidewalk.
Blue for the NYTimes. Translucent for The Boston Globe. There will be a fire again, postcardstovoters scribbled, and a roast chicken for dinner.
During yesterday’s hours in the studio, two old pieces caught my eye. I may work on them some today, too.
Happy Sunday, wherever you are.
Experiment — coming at gratitude from the side (crabwise): substitute “I get to” for “I have to.” Something happens.
I’ll start: I get to scrub clean the stove top tomorrow.
A beautiful place to write. Coming inside now though to get out of the glare.
Neighbor’s yard. Even my peonies bloomed this year! After a many year hiatus.
A South Shore walk with my sister in law on Sunday brought vistas like these.
And this one, which makes me laugh. Our garage is pretty comparable.