I don’t know about the rest of you, but the flow of our weekend messes up Mondays. All the habits I try to keep the rest of the week, just disappear. Piano, exercise, diamond painting, etc. don’t find a place/time.
So Mondays I have to reinvent my life. Mondays I have to settle for less time, less quality. But today felt like a Wednesday or Thursday. I didn’t have to sacrifice. 33 minutes of stationary bike, 45 minutes piano, and half an hour diamond painting. I don’t know why it went so well this time. But I am so grateful.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is โhand.โ Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use it any way youโd like. Enjoy!
When I was 16 I was a Candy Striper. I was lucky to get to work in a lot of the hospital wards and even the pharmacy.
At one point they put me in the part of the hospital dealing with folks who needed long term care but not high risk.
I met a patient, Frank, who was quadriplegic. When I first met him he was painting the most marvelous pictures. He held the brush in his mouth, dipping into the color, then directed to the spot on the picture.
I was in charge of feeding him. Another lesson. He insisted I stir it all together. I’m a purist. I don’t like my foods to touch. But he loved it and in huge bites.
I got to take him on long walks about the hospital grounds. He would talk about his life. So cheerful. He never said anything about his lack of mobility or inability to use his hands.
Frank was one of those people who taught me lessons for life. I learned that I didn’t want inability to stop my life. Or pain. Even when fibromyalgia or whatever it really was that put me to bed, I didn’t want to just lie there. So I read, or crocheted. When I couldn’t see well enough to read I listened to books. When I didn’t have enough money for yarn, I made plarn. I refused living in the pain. The more distractions I could dive into the better. Creativity kept me free.
When arthritis grabs my hands I think of Frank. I make lists of things I want to do when my hands feel better and picture my projects.
Now I’m better and handcrafts and piano fulfill those creative hands.
Rather than show you the progress of my projects today, I decided to share the places I am trying to learn from. I am tired of frogging (ripping the knitted fabric apart and starting over) and tinking (knitting backwards). There’s got to be ways to fix mistakes without going to all that. So here are videos I have found helpful. And now I won’t have to re-search the answer every time I need it.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is โstarts with โho.โโ Find a word that begins with the letters โhoโ and use it any way youโd like. Have fun!
Ho fame. Sounds like a stage-struck sailor. It means, I’m hungry. Or rather I have hunger. In Italian.
I love words and languages. I find them fascinating.
Why do we personalize that growling noise in our tummies? I am not Hungry. But then I don’t have it in my hands. What would that look like.
Take all the gendered items in the world. Can you imagine a roomful of people deciding if the table is feminine or masculine. And sometimes the appearance of an object might imply one or the other, but when you get it wrong you learn shape or personal use doesn’t genderize.
And don’t get me started on word order. Spanish, Italian, etc. go one way but step over to German and the hole I fall into is of my own making.
The only saving grace I have is listening to the brave souls learning English. I can hear their mistakes in our word order and now get it right in theirs.
However lessor-heard languages like Navajo, Gaelic, Latin, Esperanzo are even more difficult.
Who decided how each language goes?
Now I’ve given myself a headache. I can think of nothing else to say but Ho, ho, ho. But let’s get through Halloween Eve, first.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is โtoast.โ Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use it any way youโd like. Enjoy!
What can one say about lowly toast? It can sometimes be the only satisfying food substance, even when trying to avoid gluten or carbs. There are times that nothing else will foot the bill. What? That’s a strange saying! Hold on, I need to look that up.
Okay. Not a good use of the idiom. But neither does ‘fit the bill.’
And what does that have to do with toast?
This might have been a fun topic to discuss after a round of toasts.
Finished Scrappy Socks. I still need to sew in ends.
I can’t leave the needles empty so I’ve cast on (Turkish) the toes.
Finally made it to the balloon and the sky.
Since I got back from camping, I’m so tired. Exercise and piano times are less this week. But unpacking and laundry are done. Maybe energy will come next week.
Working on my series: Haven.
Doodler (zendoodle.com)
Music major: voice and piano
Mom of four great adults
Reiki II practitioner
I have been on disability/retired for 10 years now from depression, anxiety and fibromyalgia.
Hi! my name is Sebastian (You can call me Seb!) ...welcome to my Blog. I'm a photographer from Worcester, Worcestershire, England. Thanks for dropping by! I hope you enjoy my work.
Books, games, music, and life โ filtered through the mind of a writer, drummer, and philosopher who thinks too deeply about all of it. If it moves something in your chest, I'm interested.
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