The Annual Retelling of My Family Mothers’ Day Story

Decades ago, when I was young, there was “womens’ work,” and any man doing such would be subject to ridicule. One Mothers’ Day my father dried the dishes and headed out the back door to our clothesline to hang the wet dish towel. While he was hanging the towel on the line, a reedy little voice piped up from across the street, “Happy Mothers’ Day, Mr. Gravel!” Every year each of us in my family …

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Old Dog Learning New Trick

After making bread for over a year, I had a thought. Why spend money on pizza as an occasional treat when I have the dough, jars of tomato sauce in the root cellar, and a friend makes excellent cheese. So, last night I tried it. After pulling out and ripping the dough I made a thicker – like deep dish – pizza. Pizza was easy to make, but it sill take some tweaking to make …

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From Public to Private

With a 16 x 20 foot sign at the end of our drive on a major highway, Ken and I led a very public life for decades. Even with posted hours people came up at odd times, and this led to some amusing anecdotes: the time I rounded the corner from the outdoor bath in a robe with a towel around my wet hair and there was the “chard guy!” We were also out in …

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At the Loom – Finally!

Although I have sat at the loom a couple times recently, I wove very little. How could I fill or just live with the empty space of not having Ken making pots while I was weaving? After call from a five year old friend about her pot holder weaving, I decided to give it a go. Since Mardi Gras is about ten days away, I set my pandora for Mardi Gras music – something I …

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Why Weaving, Even the Thought of Weaving, Makes Me Cry

Since Ken’s death I have been unable to weave. I thought I would find comfort in a familiar solo activity. But, no; each time I sat at the loom I would weep. I started burying it as I cleaned and cleared elsewhere. I kept wondering why, why, why. No answers came. Was it because each break I look up and see Ken’s desk, his clothes, where he did yoga? No, I could do other things …

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Local vs. Anonymous Food

I took a year off gardening. Why? Well, I knew I could not do it as we had and I had no idea how I wanted to garden alone. Quantity, for example. But i do miss walking to my root cellar and having a second pantry – of “fresh” food. This morning I realized I have quite a bit of local food for my meal. No, the rice is not local; nor is the ginger …

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Sub Zero Alone

This week the temperatures have dropped. And I find rather than my usual confident, calm self, I have felt less capable, vulnerable, even at times helpless. I am in transition from a working two person system to creating a single life With cold weather coming I thought about bringing wood in alone. With a bum knee, I am slow and the door is open far too long each trip. So I got out the bulb …

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Why I Hate the Phrase “So Sorry for Your Loss.”

Since Ken died I have reigned in my near rabid reaction to “So sorry for your loss.” A friend asked why it bothers me so much. Here is a portion from that near rant. “So sorry for your loss” is a trite phrase: so often repeated that it is now as meaningless to me as the yellow smiley face with “Have a nice Day ” emblazoned under it.  I hesitated to post Ken’s death on …

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An Advantage of Being an Old, Fat Broad with Grey Hair

Since Ken’s death I have been approached indirectly by a couple of what I call “Butt Sniffers” (because their behavior reminds me of a dog). These are men who seem to think I need a man. From my perspective they look like hapless fellows who would like to live in my house, have me cook, clean, and do laundry for them. In exchange for? I hate to think! Yesterday after swimming I was chatting with …

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Swimming and…

My focus for a workout program has been swimming. I go regularly and increase speed and number of laps as I get into shape. My Dad, the self appointed coach, expressed concern that I was only focused on aerobic exercise. Did I lift weights? Was I doing weight bearing exercise? I told him I thought I had that one covered!

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