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Old lady musings

I love new adventures.  I have been having them all my life.  I learn about something new, I like it, I study it.  So far, I have not mastered too many things but that is ok with me.  I enjoy the learning process. I  cannot tell you what will catch my eye tomorrow but today, I am happily learning about essential oils.  

I have known that they existed and I knew that some people used them but that was about it.  I knew massage therapist used them to a small degree.  Then, I got old.

I see my doctor every year for that dreaded annual physical.  I think I am doing pretty good for a maturing woman but my doctor tells me otherwise.  Each year there is something new that is wrong with me. I find this to be depressing.  I think, “what the hell…why even try?”.  I know that is not a good attitude to have but I  have never been this old before.  I didn’t think it was going to be so stressful.

Then one day my girlfriend invites me to her essential oil class.  I accept, she is my girlfriend and I want to help her have a successful class.  I smell all the oils as the bottles are handed around the room.  I listen to the instructor as she tells us all about what some of these oils are good for and how we can feel better and be better by just using them ourselves.  Then I remember the annual physical.  I start wondering if there is really hope for me.

I bought the book.  It really is a great book.  It is simple to understand and the layout is superb. The photos are really good.  I start to study a little bit and talk to my girlfriend about what oils I think will help me be a healthier person.  Now what?

So I signed up with that company.  I understand that there are several essential oil companies out there to choose from but none of my girlfriends invited me to go and learn about those companies’oils.  So, here I am.  I now own about forty different oils.  I use ten of them everyday, just on me.  I use another five or six for my husband.  I will learn which ones are best for my dogs soon.

I joke that I smell like a hippy.  My house smells like hippies live here.  That means that you can smell the oils everywhere. But we do bathe everyday, unlike some of the hippies I actually know.  I carry small bottles of oils in my purse, he carries small bottles in his vehicle.  He is learning, probably not by choice, about which oils he uses, as well.

I even got my herb lady to sign up with this same company.  She is also a massage therapist so she uses many essential oils but she is always looking for the best effective naturals she can find and it turns out, she really likes the purity of these oils.  So now we have more to sit and talk about.

I have been using these oils for about six months.  Now I start to get serious.  Here is my reasoning: I am old.  Therefore, my body does not regenerate nearly as fast or as completely as I did twenty years ago.  It doesn’t matter which oils I use, my body will use them but not as effectively as it could have when I was younger.  Consequently, I start using one of the proprietary blends to actually help my bodys’ cells regenerate faster and more completely.

My true purpose is, of course, to live forever but why live forever in a broken body?  Let me continue to learn my craft, let me continue to have new adventures, and let me do it all on my terms.

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Contemplation, journaling, Life, Me, meditaton, Native American Women, Writing

A Little Wine, A Little Sadness

I have to admit to being a little sad these days.  You might think that sometimes winter does that to some people  but winter does not make me sad.  As a matter of fact, the first day of winter is often the happiest day of the year for me.  It means that the days will no longer be getting shorter.  The days do, in fact, start getting longer and this is quite awesome.  Conversely, as you might imagine, the first day of summer is one of the sadest days of the year for me.

You might think that the end of greatly anticipated holiday cheer would make me sad.  It does not.  I am relieved,  as most mothers are, once the crazy season is over.

No, not any of the things that you might think….my computer died and now I am sad.  Sad enough it seems to drink wine and attempt to blog from my tablet.  Oh, some folks might just laugh but I am a very tactile person.  This flat screen is not my thing.  I bought a blue tooth keyboard for my tablet way back when.  I used it so much that I had to use white fingernail polish to repaint the keys, twice.  Then it died…I was sad that day also.

I think I have things to say.  I feel words making my figertips itch for keyboard action.  This is difficult.  Failed hard drive, devastating news.  No tax return…yet, no new computer. 

That’s it.  That’s all I wanted to say.  To let cyberspace know why I am absent.  Thinking about another glass of wine…cause you know, what else can I do if I can’t write?  Ahh well, breaking into my stash of cool pens, running two journals at once, I will get through this, I hope. 

Maybe this is the universe telling me to read more. 

And now that I have said all of this, I am not so sad…either that or I have definitely had enough wine for the night!

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death, Family, Life

As Night Begins to Fall

Her teeth are sitting in the plastic cup beside her bed. Her one good eye is open but unfocused.   She will respond to a silly nickname spoken in love and it doesn’t have to be the same nickname twice; it is the love in your voice she hears and it is the love she responds to, then she is gone again.

The doctor gives her a good prognosis, providing she can survive the surgery. Her mind is not what it used to be, her body is frail despite a good constitution. We kissed her and loved on her and let the tears fall after they wheeled her out of the room.

He remembers walking home for lunch in grade school. She was never a good cook but she was smart enough to know that her little boy thought it was a grand treat to have biscuits with jelly for lunch….

Prayers are for “what ever the Creator has for her”…nothing more.  Now we wait.

He remembers the weekend he decided to run away…out of state to an outdoor rock concert.  He still laughs when he tells the story about how she made his father drive to Michigan to find him…needle in a haystack.  He went home after the concert…she was so angry but happy to have him home.

The minutes tick by, friends come out to sit with us.  It wasn’t too long ago that we sat in the same waiting room with those same friends for that friends’ mother…I guess turnabout is fair play after all.  There are smiles and jokes all around.

I update all the facebook family while we have time.

Time; this is when it runs at its’ slowest…waiting for news…good or bad.  It was only an hour and a half but I swear it felt like six.  I was thinking that I should have brought a hoodie or something, it is 95 degrees outside and cold in the waiting room.  Why is it always cold in the waiting rooms?

The nurse finally calls her name so that family will know.  A quick glance into her eyes tell us much and for the first time since we sat down our shoulders relax and we look into each others eyes, eyebrows raised to ask “good news?”.    He is a good surgeon they say, so we head to the next room to await our consultation.

She won’t remember anything, not the pain, not the hospital food, not the nurses names or faces, not the gentle hands of the surgeons.  We will, we will remember prayers answered and sighs breathed out and a bracing for the next phase of her life…however long that may be….

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