No Tracks

 

I admired the snow in the back yard this morning and noticed that it looked pristine.  No rabbit tracks, no squirrel tracks, no deer tracks, no cat tracks, no people tracks, nothing.  It was 18 degrees and I hope that everything and everyone was holed up somewhere.

(That big building across the way, it's a hospital.)

it was a good PT session this afternoon.  I walked about five steps without my walker and climbed a couple of stairs.  Did the required exercises.  And then ate a protein bar instead of lunch and took a nap, worn out.

There was Zoom at Noon today.  During the early pandemic days four of us church friends started meeting for a hour Wednesdays at noon.  Four years later, we still Zoom on Wednesdays at noon. 

No mail delivery today, which isn't unusual for me.  And no mail delivery tomorrow in honor of Jimmy Carter.  I appreciate that.

Quiet Neighorhood

It's amazing how quiet the neighborhood is after the snowstorm.  Much of the usual traffic has stayed home.  My daughter went back to work, pleased that her shoveling allowed her to drive away.  She's back at home tonight.  A noisy snowblower came and cleared my neighbor's driveway.  A bobcat with a snow blade cleared the edges of the street.  The mailman came.  And that was the outdoor excitement for the day.

I did sew a bit more, and it went a little better than yesterday.  I did all the marking for the half square triangles before I sat down.  And I put a silicone potholder under the foot pedal so it wouldn't scoot away.  

There was Impossible meatloaf, Lima beans, and fruit for dinner.  The 12 ounce packages of Impossible meat makes a small meat loaf that tastes about like the real thing.  Cooking and washing the dishes takes much longer than my usual, but I'm satisfied to be able to do it.

My daughter and I watched a couple of episodes of Virgin River on Sunday night - she'd never seen it.  That inspired me to re-read the book, which is free on Kindle Unlimited.  It's as good the second time as it was the first time.

No Snow Picture

 

I'm sure everyone is so tired of seeing pictures of snow in back yards, so you won't see one here today.

Instead we'll admire this new little cast iron skillet, just the right size for a grilled sandwich or an over-easy egg.  It came preseasoned, so I just seasoned it a couple of times before using it, and that worked out fine.

The Chiefs lost yesterday so the Bengals are out of the play offs.  Now I can just sit back and enjoy the games without fretting.  Word on the street is that the Chiefs didn't want to play the Bengals in the playoffs so they didn't play their starters, but I think they were just resting their starters for the games to come.

My local daughter is channeling her sister by using the blower to clear the steps and sidewalks.  I love my girls.

And So We Wait

 

And so we wait in Cincinnati.

It wasn't a pretty Bengals win last night in Pittsburgh, it never is, but a win is a win, and the Bengals' slim playoff hopes are still alive.  For the Bengals to be in the playoffs, the Jets need to beat the Dolphins and the Chiefs need a win over the Broncos.  (Joanne, will you be watching?  4:25)

It was a dismal start but the Bengals had a winning season, their fourth in a row, by winning their last five games.

And we wait for the snow.  Predictions are all over the place.  There will be precipitation, it 's just a matter of whether it will be ice or snow or both.  And if it's snow, whether there will be a lot.

My grandson's Christmas break is scheduled to end tomorrow and I'm sure he is hoping for snow.  My church cancelled services for this morning.

Last night I was able to put a baking sheet of breaded shrimp into the oven and take it out.  It sounds like nothing, but it's something I couldn't do a week ago.

Blessed Among Women

 A Christmas card from a church friend had a piece of green paper enclosed.  It was a reflection of Elizabeth's telling pregnant Mary that she was blessed among women.  

All of us women need this reminder, no matter what we tell ourselves or what others may tell us, or have told us

And so I am telling my women readers today, "You are blessed among women." 

Tuesday's PT led to a very sore Wednesday.  Thursday the therapist took out the squats we had added, and today the day-after is better.  I can move ahead with the exercises.

And today was the first normal-feeling day in a long time.  I could cook a simple meal, which I enjoy, and wash the dishes later.  I could focus enough to work on a jig saw puzzle.  In a few minutes,  I'll turn on the sewing machine, enjoy its computerized sound, and sew a few simple blocks together.

I'm so happy to be able to read in bed again at the end of the day.  It's one of my pleasures.  During the really painful times there was nothing left of me at bedtime to be able to concentrate on the words.  I'm not reading anything "heavy," just enjoying those mindless Christmas novels.

If the books' plots seem to run together, that's ok, I don't mind, I just skim along.

The Work of Christmas

 

The Work of Christmas

When the star in the sky is gone,

When the song of the angels is stilled,

When the kings and princes are home,

When the shepherds are back with their flocks,

The work of Christmas begins.

            To find the lost,

        To heal the broken,

        To feed the hungry,

        To release the prisoner,

        To rebuild the nations,

        To bring peace among the people,

        To make music in the heart.

                                                       by Howard Thurman     

The star above was a Christmas gift.  It arrived folded, made of stiff paper, and is lighted.  It will remain in the window for a long time,  reminding me of the poem, which stays relevant year after year.

            

Not Yet

 

Social media has been full of posts describing friends' taking down their Christmas trees, packing away decorations, starting fresh for the new year.

Not me, not yet.  I'm still enjoying the tree, loving the lights and ornaments.  There will come a time in a couple of weeks when I'll take off the ornaments and pack them in their little boxes but still leave the lighted tree in place until more toward the end of January.  

I don't need the space, no one is telling me it's time to pack it away, I'm happy for now.

The news from New Orleans is hard to hear.  All those people, enjoying themselves, never thinking that in a moment they would be dead or hurting.  They weren't carrying guns, probably, or looking for a fight, just out celebrating a happy night of the year.  Enjoying their friends, enjoying the city.