Disappointment is a Thought Away

 2024 taught me relaxation means physical activity. I spend most of my days at a computer. I would have to slip into a coma to get more sedentary than that. Instead, if I want to unwind, I have to do hard things. Like lifting weights. Or cleaning out a bathroom sink drain. Or buying a new computer. 

I don't want to buy a new computer. I'm not sure how old my current desktop PC is but it's old enough to be almost obsolete, and short on memory, and full of programs that make it drag or crash regularly. But new computers don't come with CD players anymore. Or wires. Or the ability to move data without wifi. 

However, I can't get Scrivener to work, and I have to believe it's because I don't have enough memory for it to run properly. Which means I can't create a Swamp journal for all the foodstuffs I'm planting, which means sweating in The Swamp makes me angry instead of calmer. 

Accepting that Change is Constant, and that I will outlive everyone I currently know who is alive, means I will buy a new computer and set it up on my own and learn to love/hate it as much as I've loved/hated every new technology I've allowed in my life. 

Doesn't make me less angry in the moment. Doesn't make choosing the new computer any easier. Doesn't make me less pre-exhausted thinking about what I'm going to lose in the transfer, including what's left of my sanity. 

I have to go practice some gratitude. 'Cause The Swamp workout isn't cutting it today. 

Keep the faith, if you have any left. 

Playing Catch-Up

 I intended to write an end of year post. I didn't because it was Skamper's Last Day. He joined the gang in Aslan's County New Year's Eve. Those wing markings in his fur, I'm certain, are more than markings now. He flies in the Light. 

Skuttle followed her brother March 18. Lung cancer. That silly little rock never made a peep about it until she started coughing about two weeks before the end. Saying au revoir was really hard. I'd never prepared to lose her. She seemed likely to live forever. She's with Simon, now. My main hope is that they wait for me to join them. If my theory that we all arrive in Heaven at the same time is true, I'm already there running further up and further in. 

My two oldest friends have moved on to their next lives. I'm trying to do the same down here. 

With only Clover and Blackberry in the house, I'm once again hoping we can reconcile, but I'm settling for détente. The girls rotate every 24 hours so that each gets to spend time in the entire house every day and gets to be with me in different settings. They've done remarkably well with the transition after 10 days. Building the predator part of a cat helps relax the prey fears, according to Jackson Galaxy, and increase confidence in new situations. That's my goal with all wards, now. Build confidence. 

I started drinking coffee. Light roast. And brewed cacao from a company called Crio Brue. It's bitter but I realized it's supposed to be bitter. That's what makes it good for me. A lot of terrible things are good for me. 

I'm attending a Lutheran church. I find the liturgical aspects soothing, and it's small enough that I can learn people's names and hopefully find a useful place that binds me to the community. It's funny how much I want community yet shy away from it when offered. Not my best feature. 

In keeping with Life After Menopause Philosophy, I joined a gym. I've gone twice a week since January and my top arm weight is 15 lbs, up from 5. My goal is to improve my ability to garden well. I practice squats, dead lifts, bicep and tricep moves with free weights. I found a machine that lets me do inverse squats (?) to help with leg strength for digging. It's working. I've gone from 90 minutes a weekend in The Swamp to 8 or more hours per weekend. 

I am planting a food forest. Anne of All Trades inspired me in fighting bermuda. Took her 5 years but she eradicated it from her Tennessee zone 6 garden, so I believe it is possible. I have nothing better to do. 

I haven't written since 2017. I'm not sure I will ever write again. Maybe. Maybe this is another kind of start. I have those 47 years to fill. 

Keep the faith.