Back in 2010, I went to San Francisco every other week for work. Here's a picture taken outside the window of the very tall building I worked in. The highlight of these trips was walking to The Ferry Building for lunch each day. It was filled with great shops and lunch spots. My first encounter with Blue Bottle Coffee; I loved the simple blue and white branding.
This picture is the view as I wait outside the elevator of a place I go to get therapy on my back. I am the rare individual with upper back pain versus lower. It's usually lower backs that hurt, but I think I have upper pain resulting from bracing -- holding my shoulders up and tight. A general feeling of unsafety in this world.
The world is in a state of de-evolution. The men in charge of nearly everything are for the most part greedy hydras who replicate indefinitely and have lost the ability to make good decisions. I think it's partly DNA (their pre-historic desire to kill and plunder and let's not forget rape), and partly because technology has eaten away any natural rhythm to their minds. Decisions, like going to war, are not made on a dime, using video game memes to express glee over the murder and mayhem unleashed, in the name of helping people. May this mindset be eradicated, not by death, but by isolation and containment where their harm, injustice and hatred are forever silenced.
The narrator was awesome, using different voices for the different characters, of which there were really only three: the housekeeper, her son and the professor.
It's described as enchanting, and that's a great word for it. You get completely absorbed into the relationships and interactions between the three.
Ritual and routine: the things that keep the ship afloat. When life is more free time than work time, first you feel super grateful but then you have to work hard to not lose your mind to too slow a pace. Retirement, that feels less retired, is my goal. So, I am trying to keep the calendar somewhat active. That reminds me, time to find that seedy, no-knead overnight bread to make; now that I hear Dave's Killer Bread contains glyphosate. I haven't eaten THAT many loaves. Is nothing safe anymore?
Let's get back to how we lived when it was like camping, but it wasn't called camping. Saw this in an IG post the other day and it sounds smart.
My friend, Sherri, a.k.a. www.foziewisp.blogspot.com, took her step on 2/6/26. She knows all the secrets now. May death truly be just a step into another dimension. I hope you hear me sweet girl, as I continue our dialogue, and I hope Tallulah Mae's sweet face along with your Mom's were perhaps your first encounters on the other side. Rest in all peace and love.
Stitched by my mother-in-law. I guess this is a sampler? Such perfect stitches on a thick piece of blue and white ticking. She did so much needlework over her long lifetime.
We are lucky to live around such beauty. I call these moments mini sanctuaries. And I am trying to accept more of them in my life. Even with sadness all around, you have to receive joy. It's one of the gifts of being alive, and it's good for you!
Ella, on the other hand will go down the front steps to the sidewalk. Everyone knows her and she is so friendly with people and dogs (she knows which ones to steer clear of). A darling dog and a perfect example of why people should adopt from shelters.
Also remembering to live life to its fullest, or at least as full as I can get it. Tomorrow is not promised.
Love and miss you, Mom.
And that's just what I'm seeing through these branches.
