When I looked at the page for my daily calendar this week end

the quote it showed gave me pause.

A friend gave me a calendar for Christmas titled 'That's What She Said." Each page is a quote from a woman, some of whom are famous and some not so much. This week end the quote was from Marilyn Monroe: "A wise girl kisses but doesn't love, listens but doesn't believe, and leaves before she is left."

Sounds like lines from a script, dialogue for a screen character. But it makes me sad thinking about Marilyn, an underrated actress and very troubled soul.

Funny how you don't realize the time that's passing

until you look at a frame of reference. For instance, I've not posted anything here for well over a month. That's not so unusual, but I kept thinking there was a more recent entry.

Well, while my fingers have not danced on this page for a while, I've not been idle. All that yard work (tree trimming, weeding, planting, lifting, toting, bending, twisting) resulted in back problems that kept me restrained and miserable. The ol' back has suffered a lot through the years from careless working methods (who don't I kneel and not bend?) and carrying too heavy a load. And the load is less about what I pick up to move than what I move around with me all the time.

That's pretty depressing; though I try to ignore the problem it isn't going away without work. So I have begun work on myself. It's been interesting, needless to say challenging and has brought some reward.

I am working with a nutritionist and am learning how to eat properly. Yes, Virginia there are reasons we have health issues and it's not all about how much we eat. While I've enjoyed eating delicious and comforting foods, I've been poisoning myself. Sounds like a dramatic exaggeration, but it's not really.

Our food is the result of manufacturing processes that produce large quantities that have been stripped of nutritious values and may actually be dangerous because of the effects on us.

The sad thing is, these processes were touted as means of overcoming food shortages and reducing hunger around the globe. The result of the work has actually been profits to huge agri-businesses and continuing hunger in our own country.

If I sound like a recent convert shouting the gospel, it's because that's what I am. In support of my newly embraced belief system, I recommend these films: Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead, King Corn and The Future of Food. They are available on DVD from Netflix and Amazon.com sells them.

The other film I've watched came to my attention when I stumbled onto (in the sense that I rarely watch this show and paused over it unexpectedly) a Bill Moyers Journal episode specifically about A Place at the Table. This video was produced by folk involved in trying to overcome hunger IN THIS COUNTRY through educating people about their food and influencing law makers to look at how laws and regulations contribute to the very problem they were intended to fix. At least the justifications offered for the rules was reducing hunger; the results have been big profits to agribusinesses who greatly influence laws through their financial contributions. If you want to understand what's taken place and how we could make things better, I recommend this film.

I have more such videos on my 'to view' list and will probably report on those when I've seen them.  This is truly scary stuff.  But it's not hopeless.

Meanwhile, my own program for personal improvement and wellness is progressing nicely. My nutritionist says I'm doing fine although I wanted to read some stuff, use some supplements and then wake up one day thinner, healthier, not to mention much wiser.

Doesn't seem to work that way. Nothing seems to work that way. And, as we all understand, I didn't get into this shape overnight. Yeah, the same old same old. BUT as a wise person once said, the best place to start is here and the best time to start is now (that is, since I didn't start 25 years ago in a different place).

And it really is a journey, a process, to change what you eat and how you eat. All the attention and bother I spent on 'low fat', 'lo cal', 'lite' was pretty much useless. All that stuff may have had less fat and less sugar and fewer calories, but it also had lousy nutrition and contained things people shouldn't eat. As one author describes those things and much other stuff we eat, 'food-like edible substances'.

I don't know where the journey is headed exactly, since I'm learning as I go. But somewhere down the road I expect to be healthier, weigh less (as a result of being healthier INSTEAD of being healthier because I weigh less) and have a much better life.

I engaged a nutritionist because for more than 50 years I had failed at fixing the problem(s) myself. I was working with faulty information, had a lack of reliable tools, and couldn't even begin.

Some folk, no doubt, could do personal research, devise a plan and set off to becoming healthier. More power to them. I needed help. And, thankfully, I could get that help.

And, I'm convinced now that you will pay for health at some point, either up front to be healthy and have a better life, or to regain health or manage disease to safe your life. I'm fortunate that I found a means to begin before I was sick and dying.

I set out to trim some branches

and that's how I started. It's a funny thing about ugly trees with gangly, uneven and dragging limbs. You cut one and the next looks even worse, so you cut it. Then there's another one that looks bad and you trim it, but it doesn't look better so you cut it off ... well by now the tree's not in good shape. It's not surprising that an hour or so later there's a pile of limbs and pieces of limbs in the yard. Thirty minutes or so after that (OK, I'm not real strong and I am pretty slow) the limbs are at the curb. Now I have in my yard this beautiful sculpture I call 'Tree in Yard with Saw'. 

 





Oliver suggested I re-read the chapter on pruning. Hmphf! Little appreciation for artistic expression.

 

Anyway, it's my yard and my ugly little stump, uh, yard decoration. Besides, everything changes and nothing's forever.

 

I also learned in this experience that it was a lot of tree to cut manually. As stubborn as I am (make that determined), I'd like to minimize the sore muscles in my arms, hips and backs. Maybe a power saw suitable for cutting tree limbs is in my future.

 

The joy of home ownership can be hidden in the chores and tasks that surround you.

How very nice it is to see the

result of your labor. I claim no talent for gardening, but if you put some effort into preparing the earth and creating environment in which plants can grow, voila, you get green growing things and flowers.

These pics are from the beds in front of the house. Yeah, guess I'm bragging, but I should admit here that I've failed at these efforts sometimes.  So maybe it's okay to show my success.

 

I will look at these each day and admire their beauty and the miracle of their coming up from the earth.  They will not be around a long time, but they may return next year.

 

Now, if I only had something planted that would bloom in the summer. Gee, I'm still not finished.



 

 

There are days I hang at home

and have no interest in going anywhere. Nothing like I was for years, running the roads, or at work and at various events, rarely found at home.

The good part is I have a level of satisfaction and comfort in my surroundings and can spend time working on stuff at home, reading, viewing movies, TV, etc. AND I have interaction via phone, email and in person with friends. I don't feel isolated.

The bad part is, I'm pretty sure, that satisfaction could actually be complacency and inertia. I don't have to go anywhere with a few exceptions, and it sure is easier to just stay home.

As someone else said, I need to find reasons to leave the house because I'm starting to stack newspapers and save string. Yeah, that's an exaggeration at this point; but I can see the risk here.

Being a troglodyte of sorts is not my preference. So I guess I need to stand up and go out the door, which is sorta the reverse of my view of retirement: there's life past the elevator, so leave the office.  Well, there's life outside the house and I need to still participate.

If you haven't looked outside recently,

let me assure you it's a fine, lovely spring. True, there have been fluctuating temperatures with quite cool days; but other days have been sunny, breezy, very pleasant.

I've been observing and enjoying the weather from my deck. A few times it has been too uncomfortable to remain long, but I've spent hours on other days. During this time I've listened to the plethora of avian company, rich and lovely songs, accompanied by flights from tree to tree.

As a matter of fact, one of the pleasures I've received while deck-sitting is the discovery of a robin's nest in a tree (which was supposed to be a bush) next to the deck. I can look down into the nest, although I'm trying to observe from a distance since the parents don't seem to want me hovering.

I've attempted to capture it with my camera, but have no skill in seeing around the foliage or focusing well enough to get a clear image. No matter, I still enjoy observing the adult birds tending and watching and sitting. Sitting for very long periods.

I am also aware of a bird nest in the end of a gutter on the front of the house. When the babies emerge and they are not using that nest, I will have the gutters cleaned out and capped (again!l).

And, at the end of summer when the nest in the tree beside the deck is abandoned, I may cut back that tree. I need to exert some control over the yard. Rest assured, it is a yard with some decorative plantings, not a lawn and garden.

Front and back are plain and pretty simple, except for couple of bushes that are going their own way and flower beds finally renewed through weeding and replantings.

It was hard work, but now things look as if I actually like living here; and I'm not worried that neighbors and visitors are embarrased. It has been satisfying in the way only something you've strived for and achieved (or at least neared) can satisfy. I think now I will add couple of other beds in fall.

Retirement has been an adjustment. But it is nice, at least if you have a decent place to live, can pay your way, are physically and mentally able to particpate in and enjoy events. How fortunate I am. 

In a recent email to a few folk,

I gave an example of my memory loss, which could be seen as humorous if it stood alone. Problems with that theory are, (1) it involved forgetting my son's name, and (2) there are other examples.

I laugh about aging and the ensuing problems; you laugh or cry; you stay or go. I choose to hang around and laugh about it as much as I can. But I'm starting to think it's somewhat less amusing than I wish it to be.

The other morning, as I was making another pot of coffee, I ground the beans and poured them into the water tank of the coffee pot. I laughed at myself because it was just a silly problem, albeit annoying. I've made quite a few pots of coffee in my time and understand the coffee goes one place and the water another. But it was like I didn't remember this and just added the freshly-ground coffee to the water because it seemed like the thing to do.

After rinsing out the coffee pot multiple times (getting grounds completely rinsed out after they sank to the bottom) was even more annoying. And in this process I understood that my memory was betraying me in regard to simple, routine, mundane things.

This morning when I went out to get the paper and put the DVD I watched yesterday in the mailbox to return, I found my wallet laying in the street under the mailbox. Frankly, I'm amazed I even noticed it, given my tendency not to see details clearly. Thankfully, I did see it and knew immediately what had happened.

When I came in from short trip out yesterday afternoon, I went to the mailbox to check for mail. I had my car keys, my wallet and my jacket in hand. Clearly I dropped the wallet while retrieving mail; the kicker is I didn't realize I'd dropped the thing and it lay in the street the rest of the day and night.

I'm starting to think I actually need a list of names, addresses, phone numbers on my person whenever I'm away from the house; and perhaps I need things I have to keep secured to my person by belts or hooks.

That's an interesting picture, maybe a notebook tied to my waist, or hanging from a rope around my neck. OR, with my phone secured in a pocket and all needed info loaded into it. THEN I can pin the wallet in a pocket, or underwear, or on a belt.

I've joked before that I'm impervious to stuff, varying dependant on the situation. Evidently, I'm impervious to things I do. As I said in that email about my memory, maybe I'd better reserve a rocking chair at the home, a place where someone else keeps up with me and the things I need.