Wintering

“Snow creates that quality of awe in the face of a power greater than ours. It epitomizes the aesthetic notion of the sublime, in which greatness and beauty couple to overcome you—

a small, frail human—entirely.”~ Katherine May, Wintering

While some members of my beautiful family are enjoying their first winter in Germany, sending gorgeous pics of snowflakes and bundled-up children playing outside, I'm doing my own kind of "wintering." All of the quotes in this post are from a book highly recommended by my friend, so while I wait for it to become available at the library, I'll read the bits I can find on Goodreads.  

January has been challenging, and not in the ways many people think. We here in Florida don't have traditional cold seasons. We don't shovel snow nor worry about our heating bill, and the only snowmen are the ones made of sand on the beach. 

“When I started feeling the drag of winter, I began to treat myself like a favoured child: with kindness and love. I assumed my needs were reasonable and that my feelings were signals of something important. I kept myself well fed and made sure I was getting enough sleep. I took myself for walks in the fresh air and spent time doing things that soothed me. I asked myself: What is this winter all about? I asked myself: What change is coming?”

The temps rarely dip into the 30s, and the skies are bright blue much of the time. And yet, I still find myself wanting to hibernate, to curl up with coffee and a blanket, light a fire and spend the day reading and crocheting on the couch with the cats. 

So, that's what I've been doing, yet I feel guilty for it, like I should be more productive. I should be tackling that "to do" list, Marie Kond-ing everything, organizing & purging as I see so many other folks doing. I should be back to my walking routine, get that meal plan implemented, set my New Years intentions and shed the ten pounds I have gained. 

And yet, I find myself immobilized. I make my way through the day doing the necessities, of course. No one is going hungry nor living in squalor. Our home (despite the still-unrepaired storm damage) is clean enough, tidy enough, but there are messes lurking behind doors and walls that until the aforementioned work is done, I really can't tackle. Since I am an all-or-nothing kind of person, I can't force myself to deal with an unrelated task, I just want to wait until everything is put back together and then I can dive into projects. That may be a while. 

“we are in the habit of imagining our lives to be linear, a long march from birth to death in which we mass our powers, only to surrender them again, all the while slowly losing our youthful beauty. This is a brutal untruth. Life meanders like a path through the woods. We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us, revealing our bare bones. Given time, they grow again.”

Alsoly, as my grandson says, I'm "wintering" in the physical way. The silver streaks are out and proud now, and when I pull my hair back I can no longer see the former color. I am getting a peek at how I'll look when this transition is complete, and so far, I like it. The color is pretty, and though I'm finding that some of my current wardrobe palette looks better (or worse) than before, I think the grey is mostly flattering. I appreciate the slow transition, no matter how strange it may look with these multi-toned tresses. The process is allowing me to come to terms with who I really am, no disguising the aging. It's shocking at times, but also comforting and affirming. "Oh, there you are, my friend! No need to cover up, you're beautiful! Why didn't you let the light shine through sooner?!"

Along with the hair dye, I've also released (thank you for the word, Kali) some other burdens, including the expectations (from myself and others) that I should look a certain way. Should behave a certain way because it's acceptable and expected of me. I stopped having my fingernails "done" months ago, no longer willing to sit in the salon and spend money so that my hands can look "fancier." With as much crafting as I do, and as little time as I spend in "society," it's simply not worth it to me anymore. My hands take a beating from the glue gun, the crochet hook, the sink of dishes, the chlorine and salt water...I am taking care of them as best I can with moisturizer and will probably get a manicure now & then, but the hours and dollars spent on gels are over. Done. I still get a pedicure every few months because I enjoy the experience and the end result, but the same isn't true for my fingers. My hands are hardworking. They can clean a home, create beautiful items that bring joy to others. They can dig holes for milkweed, build habitats, hold newly-born butterflies while they take their first flight. 

They can bake bread, turn pages in story-after-story I read to my grandchildren. Most importantly, they can hug and console and hold hands with those babies. They're doing their job, and I'm grateful to them. They don't need to be embellished any further. The sight and feel of June's hand in mine is quite enough. 

After an impulse moment of rejoining WW, I immediately felt buyers remorse and resentment. The same with the "food program" I followed to lose 25 pounds a couple years ago. I love the whole foods, completely agree that the way of eating is the healthiest and I still follow it..about 80% of the time. I have realized that I am simply not willing to live my whole life without a scone. Or a slice of my granddaughter's birthday cake. Or a bowl of pasta with homemade sauce. I am therefore releasing myself from that expectation. I like wearing Size 6 jeans, don't get me wrong, and hope that once I start walking again I'll fit into them more comfortably, but not if it means I return to the somewhat disordered thinking/eating that resulted in that smaller body. Life is simply too short for that. 

Just as with my hands, my body is doing an excellent job taking care of me and others. I'm not as thin nor fit as some, but I can walk 3 miles barefoot in the beach, chase June around the yard, keep up with her in Disney World. After all of the running, when we are both tired, I can provide a soft spot for her to rest. 

Though I'm no bikini model, my husband still thinks I'm beautiful. He still compliments me and shows his attraction to and appreciation of me, mind and body, in all of the ways I want and need. I hope that never ends, but I know that change is inevitable and eventually we will likely be unable to show our love in those same physical ways, but  if and when it does, it won't be due to the number on the scale, just the date on the calendar and the number of candles on our birthday cakes. 

So, I guess what I'm saying in this long ramble, is that winter is here, both the season of the earth as well as the season of my life. Along with all of the other stages & changes, I can either fight it tooth and nail or I can relax, lean into it, release the negative demands and embrace it for what it is. I'm not sure if I'd call it "aging gracefully," perhaps easing gratefully would be more like it. 

Blessings, 

Rapunzel

Wordless Wednesday

 

Throwback Thursday & Mabon Blessings

I've decided to do a little throwback posts on Thursdays, a chance to step back in time for a moment and revisit some moments from the past here in Blogland. This is from my first year of blogging, on this day in 2007. I've copied and pasted from the original, but updated a tiny bit where appropriate. 

Ahh..Autumn, my favorite time of year! Witches are everywhere, Samhain is right around the corner! Even here in the tropics the weather changes ever-so-slightly, the sun shines differently, there's a little breeze. I turn inward, my Kitchen Witch comes out and I start spending more time over the hearth. 

To celebrate Mabon, made a batch of Three Sisters from the cookbook, A Witch in the Kitchen by Cait Johnson. 

Three Sisters Harvest Stew 

This is a dish rich with textures, colors, and history. The "three sisters" refer to what the early Native Americans called corn, squash and beans. 

2 tablespoons olive oil 

1 large onion, chopped 

3 to 4 garlic cloves, chopped 

1 large carrot cut into 1-inch pieces 

3/4 cup butternut squash, cubed (for a quicker-cooking variation, use 1 cup yellow or crookneck squash, cubed) 

1 can beans, drained (garbanzos, with their harvest gold color, are my favorite, but you could try butter beans, small red beans, or pintos - whatever pleases you) 

1 cup fresh or frozen corn kernels 

sea salt 

1 dried chipotle pepper (optional) 

Water or vegetable broth, as needed 

1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley 

 In a large stew pot, heat the olive oil. Add the chopped onion and stir to coat with the oil. Sauté until golden, the add the garlic, carrot pieces, squash, beans, corn, sage, sea salt to taste, and the chipotle pepper, if you desire. Though the pepper is optional, the smoky taste is reminiscent of the first hearth fires of the season, perfect for autumn. Simmer the stew, adding the water or vegetable broth as needed, until the squash is tender, the add the parsley and stir thoroughly. Serve piping hot.

Notes: I used garbanzo beans as called for, frozen diced butternut squash for convenience, and Trader Joe's fire-roasted corn. I didn't have a chipotle pepper so I used a little Chipotle in Adobo for spice. So yummy! I would say this makes more like 4 servings, not 6, but perhaps that's because I eat it as a main course, and I have a big appetite. ;) 

Brightest Mabon Blessings,

Rapunzel~

New (Birth) Year Resolution: Buy (Almost) Nothing New for a Year

 

Like many of us, I've been reading a lot lately about overconsumption, consumerism, capitalism, etc. and how these things are impacting our planet. Obviously, it's not good, and something needs to change, but how? How much can one person truly do to make a difference? 

I started looking at my own habits, and while I think I have some good ones (veganism, recycling, etc), there is definitely room for improvement. One glaringly obvious way, evidenced by my closet and my checkbook, is my clothing consumption. Now, I'm no fashionista, don't don designer duds nor dress to impress every day, but I do have a healthy shoe collection and like a new outfit as much as any girl. The problem is, I lean toward "fast fashion" for the very reason everyone does: It's cheap and it's available. I swear, I keep Old Navy in business. I'm there every season, stocking up on inexpensive sweaters in the cool months, tanks and light dresses during the warm ones. The quality isn't terrible, and the items last long enough, but inevitably they end up being donated to the charity shop or, god forbid, the landfill. 

(In my defense, my weight tends to fluctuate which requires shopping for the right size since I rarely hold onto my "fat clothes." Good advice from the weight loss gurus, but not practical for those of us yo-yo dieters.)

So, what to do? How can I continue to wear the cute clothes I enjoy without contributing to the problem and also lessening the strain on my budget? One easy suggestion: Buy Second Hand. Now, I have been a thrift shopper for many years, spent hours with my mom or my daughters treasure hunting at one thrift store or another. I rarely leave a shop empty handed, always find some little token, a small dopamine-popping treat for myself or others. I don't rely on these places for the bulk of my wardrobe, though. The items are side dishes, not the entrees. This is where the change has to happen. 

For the next year, I'm committing to these rules:

• Buy (mostly) second hand, with certain exceptions. Lingerie, workout wear, socks, sneakers, etc. will be new, just due to my own personal hygiene phobias. I have purchased vintage boudoir nighties on occasion, but that's a story for another time. *wink* 
• Buy (mostly) only when needed, not on impulse, but that rule will be flexible because who truly can determine whether those stilettos are a need or a want? I mean, seriously!

Vintage handbag & pearls, new peep toe slingbacks

• Clean out & clear out closet, sell or donate unwanted items. 
• Shop mindfully, paying attention to quality as well as price. Choose items that have some staying power, but a few trendy pieces are acceptable. 
• Be bold! Don't be afraid to break the rules! Wear what you want, not what "fashion" dictates. Be yourself, what's comfortable, but also try on some new looks and see how it feels! 

That's what I have so far, and I've already made progress. Last week I took a pile of donations to our local humane society thrift store, and when I decided to reward myself with a new dress, I went to Poshmark instead of the mall. 

I've been looking at some older photos of myself, from back when my kids were small, and remembering how much I liked those longer flowy dresses. I have a similar one (from Old Navy), a cute button down that's flattering and comfy, but it's been hard to find others. Well, apparently the 90's are now considered vintage (yikes!) and those dresses are all over the second hand clothing sites, often being touted as "cottage core." Hmm..ok. Well, how lucky for me! 

I ended up purchasing a couple, both from the same brand, Betsy Lauren. This black floral maxi fit perfectly out of the package, just needed a quick wash and light iron! I love the lattice back and the button front! 

I don't know about my dress being truly "vintage," but
Beren's Jeep certainly is! 

I wore it out to brunch yesterday, felt pretty cute, and was delighted by the compliments from the adorable young server..and my handsome hubby.  

The details: 

        Item: Vintage 1990s Betsy Lauren dress

        Purchased: Poshmark

        Cost: $18 plus tax & shipping: $25.51 Total

        Expression on hubby's face: Priceless. ;) 

 Would anyone like to join me on this challenge? I know my friend Benzaiten has been chatting about this issue as well. Maybe we mature goddesses can start to make a difference, heal the world one second hand dress at a time! 

Rapunzel~

Turtle Magic

I am fortunate to live within steps of the ocean, and even after 8 years here, I do not take that blessing for granted. Ever. I try to visit the beach daily, usually for sunrise walks, but even if I'm out of town or miss those jaunts for some reason, I never go more than a week without sticking my toes in the sand. It's a ritual, therapy, workout, nature immersion, and, sometimes, a social occasion. Over the years, I've gotten to know the "regulars," the mostly-women-but-a-few-men who also push themselves out of bed while it's still dark outside and make their way to the shore to walk, bike, or just sit quietly with their coffee and watch the sun rise over the sea. 

While every day is wonderful, each sunrise unique in its own way, now & then I'm treated to something truly special, an experience that is simply breathtaking and one which won't soon be forgotten. Over the past few weeks, I've had several of such moments. 

Our county has a very active sea turtle patrol & rescue who really work hard to ensure that the turtle population grows & thrives. During nesting season, the volunteers (again, mostly women) can be seen observing turtle tracks, marking nests, putting up barriers, then, when the time is right, gently digging up the sand to count and record eggs (both viable and not), and give the hatchlings some assistance if needed. (More about that here: http://www.turtlepatrol.com/about-us.html) 

It's quite rare to see a mama turtle nesting, and I had only witnessed this one time since moving here. Until July 26th. It was then that I came upon a Green Turtle who was digging the "body cave" into which she would lay her eggs. This was quite an event, let me tell you! She digs and tears with those massive flippers, sending sand and debris several feet into the air! Unfortunately, this lady appeared to be stuck in some plant life, and was struggling to continue her work. I called my "turtle lady" friend (whom I have on speed dial!) and she advised me to gently approach and untangle the growth. Oh. my. god.  I kept D on the phone as I proceeded to do just that. I don't know who was more nervous, me or the mama, but I approached slowly and spoke to her gently, hoping to assure her that I wasn't there to harm, only help. She looked me in the eye, I swear she did, and seemed to understand. I backed up, and she proceeded with her task, seemingly unencumbered. 

By this time, a small crowd had gathered, taking pictures and video, but remaining at a safe, respectful distance. We stood there for at least an hour, watching and waiting, until she completed her nesting and made her way to the shore. Barely a word was uttered, we were all truly awestruck and I spied a few of us were wiping tears from our eyes. It was simply magical, there's no other way to describe it, and I walked on air for the rest of the day, so grateful to have been a witness to this incredible event. 

I've had a couple other wonderful turtle-related moments recently, but I think I'll hold off on sharing them for now. I just want to sit and relive this day, and thank Mother Nature again for her amazing creatures. 

Michele~

PS Photos by my fellow sunrise walker, Linda Day. 

BirthDay Musings

"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, 

but rarely admit the changes it has gone through 

to achieve that beauty." ~ Maya Angelou 

Saturday was my birthday, my 58th. I have lots of thoughts swirling around my head, about the day itself and also about the bigger meaning, the significance of the date, the passing of time, aging.  

I've never been one to dwell on the number, haven't given much thought to growing older and what that entails, but this year is different. This year, I've decided to somewhat embrace the inevitable. I've stopped coloring my hair, letting the grays show. I'll admit, as much as the "Silver Sisters" movement encourages us to enjoy the "silver crown," I don't like how this looks. I don't care for the way the front of my head is different than the rest. I know it's a transition, it will take time (at least 2 years!), and I "should" be patient and enjoy the experience. Right now, though, I miss my brown with blonde highlights. I don't care for the way my skin looks against the gray hairline. (I'm also not happy with my weight, and that's probably part of my frustration, but that's another subject.) This sudden change, not the "natural" way as it would have been if I'd allowed the strands to come through over time, is hard. It's jarring. Along with some other changes to my body, aches & pains and weird things that are happening, I'm just feeling out of sorts. Not comfortable in my skin. I'm sure it's temporary and I'll adjust, but for now..I'm just a little sad. 

I'm still processing, will likely have more to say once I get my head around it, but for now, I want to write, to share, to get these memories down somewhere that I can reflect on them at my leisure. Yes, I posted on Instagram and Facebook, but, to be honest, I'm growing weary (again) of social media and find myself turning back to blogging where I feel comfortable and safe. 

Maybe, like the metaphorical caterpillar, I'm cocooning at the moment. I'm hunkering down and having some deep thoughts which may lead to big changes..or not. Perhaps I just need to take a breath, give myself a little time to regroup and settle into the changes that have happened already. Maybe nothing else is needed this year. 

I'm not sure, but for now, I'm going to relish in the memories of the gorgeous celebration with my family. I'm going to appreciate the sweet gifts and the heartfelt greetings from friends. I'm just going to sit right here and count my blessings.

Michele~

Goodbye, My Friend

 

It's been 12 days since we lost him, and I'm still processing, not ready to write about it yet. I know I should get these feelings out there, but every time I sit down to write something in me resists and I just can't. Maybe someday I will sit down and beautiful, eloquent words will flow and I'll be able to honor who he was, what he meant to me, but for now I'll just repost what I wrote in April of 2007. 

I love you, "Strider," and will miss you every day of my life. 

Re-post from April 13, 2007: 

Since neither of my youngest daughters have been inspired to choose a "character" for my blog (apparently the nasty business of school and work consumes them), I'll move along and come back to them later. Ex-husband #1 and I share such a long, complicated history; it would take a novel-length post to tell our story! In a nutshell: he and Beren are best friends, have been for 35 years now. I dated Beren first, way back in the day when we were young and wild and a little bit crazy. When circumstances drove us apart, I had the good fortune to be "taken care of" by this amazing man who I went on to marry and create a child with. The marriage didn't last, but the friendship did, and it has only gotten stronger and deeper as we have co-parented and befriended each other through the years. He is a wonderful, passionate father who really opens his heart..a rare find in a man nowadays. He has been "with" me through thick and thin, the subsequent break-up of my second marriage and everything that lead up to it. Several years ago he gave me an amazing gift: he and Kali orchestrated a meeting between myself and Beren, the first time we'd laid eyes on each other in 20-something years. They had no idea what would happen, only that I still had feelings for Beren that I needed to explore further or put closure to. The rest is history, as they say, but I have the greatest admiration for this man who loved me, and his friend, enough to give us his blessing. When the rest of the world looked on in shock and disbelief at the situation, my ex-husband showed grace and dignity and acceptance. He was one of our few "cheerleaders," never losing hope that we would make it, that it would all work out. I can't speak for him, but I know that I feel completely loved by him in the most pure, sincere way, and I believe that Beren feels the same. So, that's the condensed version of the story, and my introduction to Strider..a/ka/ Aragorn..ex-husband to me, best friend to Beren, father of Kali. He says that he chose Strider because he is heroic & chivilrous, and I think that describes him perfectly.

Rest

I'm taking a course by the author Patti Digh called First 37 for 2021. Each day we receive writing prompts and encouragement to go deeper, live with intention, create more meaning in our lives. I am really enjoying it so far, already feel more peaceful and enlightened and am enjoying the community of Like-minded people. Well, today's instruction consisted of just one word: REST. 

After the insanity and chaos of yesterday's political drama, that's just what I intend to do today. I'm going to breathe deeply, move slowly and allow my body and mind to calm down. There's a lot of work to be done in our country, and I hope to do my part, but for today, some healing is needed. 

Have a beauty-full day,

Rapunzel

On My Hearth: Creole Black-eyed Peas

photo by Kali

Because 2020 was such a freaking mess (to put it mildly), I am not taking any chances with this year! Not only did I make my own batch of lucky black-eyed peas, I also gifted a bag of Rancho Gordo to each of my daughters. Everyone prepared her own recipe, wish I could have tasted them all but, alas, distance prevented that from happening. I had to settle for just my own, which is so delicious and, like every recipe from Susan Voisin, is always a hit! 

My photo doesn't do it justice, head over to FatFree Vegan Kitchen and grab the recipe for Creole Black-eyed Peas.  I usually serve it with a hunk of cornbread alongside, but after a few indulgent holiday meals, I need to get back on track with my eating plan before my jeans are any tighter! I'm starting with Square One, listening to Chef AJ each morning as I walk, cleaning up my kitchen and preparing compliant meals. I'll have those few pounds gone in no time. 

The walking is so important, I really feel it when I miss a couple days in a row. So, back to regular movement, structure and focus and routine! 

Have a beauty-full day,

Rapunzel~