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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Lap Swimming – Reaching Goals

I find lap swimming a good exercise for me. I swam laps before I met Ken. I used to teach swimming and work as a lifeguard. I love water. With a bad knee and previous rotator cuff shoulder problems, it’s a good choice. I have been inching up the number of laps to avoid injury. And yesterday with the threat of a large storm keeping me home later in the week I pushed to 50 …

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The Tree Falls and I Can’t Blame the Cat.

This year I cut a tree and put it up myself about a week ago.  It really is a three handed job –  best if one person holds it upright and straight while the other person is prone tightening the bolts. Wednesday I had lunch with a friend and ran errands.  While calling my friend to report I was home safe, I heard a plop.  After hanging up the phone I discovered the tree on …

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Weeding Out or The Spice Rack Story

Ken and I have used many spices.  There are my New England spices, my French Canadian spices, Scandinavian and Ken’s German, Scandinavian, and of course after we lived in Japan there are Asian condiments as well.    Each year during a small window after the growing season, but before he made pots, Ken went through the kitchen and pantry.  Then he would travel to the co-op and Penzey’s for holiday needs like figs for fig pudding …

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Stockpiling or the Toilet Paper Story

I have been laughing and telling people how Ken was a pack rat – not that I am not one – and how just now, over a year after his death I was down to the last five rolls of toilet paper he had bought.  It did not fit in the closet, but was piled on the upper floor by a shelf.  As the Japanese would say, a toilet paper yama (mountain). Yesterday at the …

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