I get up in the morning and make a pot of coffee and while that is brewing, I make a cup of Senseo. While I drink that, I start reading my favorite blogs by my favorite people. Because of the time difference, there is always lots of new reading material there and lots of new images to look at and, of course, lots of comments to read and leave behind. It takes awhile to do this and it allows me to slowly wake up, while I drink more coffee and smoke numerous cigarettes. It is my favorite time of the day and I am so glad that I don’t have any little children anymore that require my time and attention. I am so glad that this time is all mine and that I can do with it what I will and that I have found such a good way to spend it.
It’s really great how this has been a way to meet new people who all contribute their bit of excitement to my life. They are all so different, but all interesting and very amusing, but I suppose that comes with the territory of being a blogger. A dull blogger wouldn’t last very long in blog land. He or she wouldn’t gather many followers.
Some people have beautiful websites, you can see that a lot of thought has gone into them and that they just didn’t pluck them out of the choices that Blogger gives you. Some people know how to place images and text, which is still a bit of a mystery to me. Mine just come up in any old order and have no little bits of text under them. I couldn’t copyright if I wanted to.
It’s all great fun anyway and I feel like my time is well spent. It makes getting up in the morning even more exciting and I can’t wait to be up and about and to get my day started this way. Boy, would I miss my Internet connection if I had to do without, knock on wood! It’s also nice to get complimented on your ‘artistic’ endeavors, small as they may be and prematurely as you may be publishing them. It is good to get the encouragement, because it really does make you want to keep trying and it does make you want to learn all the things you don’t know how to do yet.
The art that these people make themselves is very inspiring. It gives you goose bumps to see how well done some of it is. There is so much incredible talent out there and these people are just leading ordinary lives like you and me. They’re not all kept under special living circumstances in a colony on an off shore island somewhere. Which you think they almost should be. I suppose artists need to be living every day lives in order to create, but you almost wish for them to have some special place to escape to where they can create to their heart’s contend.
There was a huge villa in Saratoga, California, that was set in a large garden on the side of a hill, where writers could retreat for long periods of time to write their novels. They would get a grant to come and stay there. It was a wonderful place and I went there often to walk around in the garden and to walk the paths in the hills. It was very peaceful there and I am sure it was very conducive to writing great things. I imagine there are places like that for all sorts of artists, be they digital or traditional. If there are not, there should be. I imagine some place by the sea, where you can walk the stormy beach and be inspired by nature and the waves and the wind and the sun and all the living things. But maybe that wouldn’t work at all, maybe today’s artists need the hustle and bustle of every day life, I don’t know. I know what I would like, but then again, I am not an artist, yet.
In the meantime, it is getting later and later and I need to take care of the critters, so I’ll pause for now and continue in a while. I’ll contemplate while I feed the cats and walk the dog. Such is life in these here parts…
While I was walking the dog, I ran into my sister and her dog and she told me how she had been busy this weekend painting my niece’s room and putting together furniture from Ikea while my niece sat on the sofa with her iPod stuck in her ears. She is fourteen and being a teenager and my sister had to work this weekend too. And she has a husband who can’t be bothered. He is a cardiologist who doesn’t know how to do home repairs. So Eduard does them or my sister does them herself. I think that if it were up to my brother in law, the house would slowly fall apart around them and nothing would get done.
My sister didn’t used to be handy, but now she can handle a screwdriver and a paintbrush very well. Necessity makes you a master at things, I learned that myself too in my life. I can even use power tools. My daughter owns her own cordless power drill and she has her own tool box, we don’t like helpless women in this family! Of course, since I am married to Eduard, I never have to do anything involving tools anymore, because he is so technical and handy. I don’t think I am allowed to touch his cordless drill or his other variety of tools. It looks now like I am helpless, when in reality I am not, I just have a quick and handy husband (with a Swiss army knife).
Today my gastric band is going to be filled for the last time. I have an appointment at 10:55. I can’t wait to have it done, because it will hopefully mean eating a lot less than I have been eating and getting rid of those last 12 kilos, which is 26.4 lbs. Yesterday I allowed myself to eat an extra omelet for the last time along with a good piece of cheese and then some raisin crackers. I wont be having any whole pieces of pie anymore if all goes according to plan. It will be nice to get rid of my stomach. If all goes well, it should take me three months to get rid of it.
In October it will have been a year since I got my gastric band. It seems like it was just a short time ago and I can’t believe a year has gone by already. Time flies as you get older, it seems. The days and weeks pass by so quickly. The summer was gone in no time at all, especially since the weather was so bad. It didn’t feel like we had a proper summer at all and now it feels like it is fall already. The years add up quickly and that means that I am aging quickly too, which is the drawback of the whole thing. I don’t really mind turning 53, but it is bringing me closer all the time to that dreaded age of 60 and I don’t know how I feel about that. I have very mixed feelings about it.
I don’t mind growing older, as long as I get to do it gracefully and without too many wrinkles or ailments or physical discomforts. So far, so good. I have a bit of a wanky shoulder that doesn’t always feel good and sometimes my knees hurt, but mostly everything still works as it should. I have physical scars and mental scars, but they don’t prevent me from functioning. All has been healed. Luckily, things like rheumatism and arthritis don’t run in the family. We do get to have wholesome bodies as we grow old. My oldest sister’s high blood pressure really is an exception to the rule.
Well, people, it is time to get the proverbial show on the road. Time to clean up the kitchen and decorate and make my self up. Wouldn’t you like to do that? Make yourself up as you go along?
Have a terrific day. Ciao…
Yes, it would be wonderful for artists and writers to have a special place they lived where they didn’t have to deal with the everyday life and could only make beauty. But something I have noticed about myself, at least, is that the hard times bring out the creative drive. I’ve written some of my best poems during those times. Strange, is it not?
I suppose we need to be exposed to life periodically to get a taste of everything to really keep us on our toes. I need very little of it myself, actually. I’ve had enough to keep me going for awhile. But is is true that your best work can happen when shit happens. Excuse the bon mot. Maybe there should just be regular retreats where people are pampered and get peace and quiet and space to create and lots of room to grow in. A mountain top or a valley with a creek running through it. Think of a good space to be. You write poetry? Do you ever go public with it? On your blog? I would love to read some. Is there any in your older posts? Just point the way and I’ll go there.
Creating an artist retreat is my dream (well, a recent one and more Fawzan’s than mine, but still, it’s nice to think about). I’ll probably do it one of these day, an artist-writer-tired but smart people retreat. Dogs and cats and gerbils allowed.
About customizing the blog, it’s not that complicated really. Pas sorcier in French. If you want, I can definitely help you customize yours. We can do it a little at a time, nothing overwhelming. Some templates are easier to customize than others – I have to look up which ones we’re using, but you only need to learn a few new things to get it done. Honest.
And you’re very brave for having had the gastric band done. Every time I go back to visit in Lebanon, everyone is on my case about (I have as much to lose and more than you did at the beginning). I can’t bring myself to do it. Now that I’ve been reading you for a little while, I have no idea where you found the courage. I was going to say guts, but decided it was in poor taste.
We’ll be talking about a lot of the creative process in this growing community of ours – we all struggle with some parts of it, the needing and wishing parts mostly I think.
I liked your comment, “I am not an artist, yet.” I liked the “yet” part. It means that you are headed that way and are optimistic about the journey.
I laughed (well, maybe cried) about your sister’s story about her teen daughter. I did the same thing for my 14 year old niece last Christmas. It was a horrible experience. I felt like a Lady-in-Waiting to Princess iPod! However, I am proud of both my daughters when we re-did their bedrooms. Both pitched in. Antigone recently referred to one re-do as our days of “she-power.”
I’m very proud of you for losing the weight and having the guts (ha ha Rima you nut!) to do the gastric band. You have come such a long way and I know you are going to get to the finish line.
Me, today is the first day of the 30 pound challenge with and I’m looking forward to it.
And dang, you always make me drool for some Senseo, even as I sip my coffee, reading your posts. Senseo, Senseo, Senseo. I love the sound of it.
Sorry about the boo-boo with the link. It works but it’s too long and it should say with “Windy.”
Sigh. Not enough coffee so far.
You have done really well with the gastric band. I remember reading your earlier posts about the very small amount of food you were eating. Things like two pieces of cheese! Hope things get easier from now on.
I love your spirit Irene, liked the comment about the Swiss army knife, it makes your blog seem even more like a personal chat – You are one of the bravest bloggers I have come across yet, sharing your deepest angst and feelings of inadequacy as well as your positive hopes and achievements. It is very inspiring.
53 is fine. That’s what I’ve found. Also the older you get the more people think you are great and young for your age, because the less is expected. My Mum found 60 was the first sime she felt fully at ease with herself, grown up and comfortable. So we have that to look forward to – I hoped 30 would do it, but no. 50 is better and 53 is more so.
Do you know that I am not sure what exactly a gastric band is or how it works. You sometimes seem to eat so little that I wonder you don’t faint. Could you explain at all? or is it further back in your blog?
Oh, I do love the way you people comment so freely and generously. It makes writing this blog a true pleasure. Rima, I would be interested in making my own weblog providing I could place my old posts in it and if it would have all the neat tricks that blogger has, such as spelling (which I need badly) and the ability to link to other pages. It would just have to basically be able to do what I do now, only look prettier. More like Sweet Wood Talking Dutch style.