How’s YOUR retirement coming along?

 

Image via geralt of Pixabay

Do you think about it?

What are your first thoughts when you hear “retirement home?” Do you ever contemplate ending up in one of them? Is that a slight shudder, as we even think about such a situation for ourselves? 

Usually you think of these places as sort of warehouses for old people who’re no longer able to make any meaningful contribution to society. Indeed, unfortunately that seems often to be the case. You hear about huge tragedies like those during Covid-19 when it first went on the relentless rampage, killing many residents in care facilities.

It’s enough to make you fiercely determined to stay in your own home, no matter what happens in your life. You don’t want to be one of those poor individuals we’ve just mentioned, helpless, a sitting duck waiting for death in a prison.

But think about it. Can your house actually be a prison of your own making? Maybe your own home isn’t actually the best solution for someone who is infirm, might need lots of help, may have to even redesign your living space just so you can manage each day. 

Image via qimono of Pixabay

All the stuff

Usually homes come with stuff accumulated over the years. Have you used your stuff in the last year? Yeah, your very own house is lovely. You’ve poured all kinds of love and care into it. Of course that was when you were a lot younger. These days you’re dependent upon other young bodies to help you when you just can’t quite manage that home. 

These days you have to evaluate your movements carefully. If you kneel down anywhere, for any purpose, will you be able to get up again? It’s a problem. Can you move furniture around? Mop the floors? Do the laundry, make the bed? Joyfully set out on a lovely morning to attack the weeds in your garden?

If the answers to these questions are negative, I’m going to encourage you to change your perception. Lay it out. Start asking some questions of yourself. What do you want the rest of your life to look like?

You’ll notice many of the tasks above fall into the mundane or manual worker category. It happens. Over the years, with household needs, you’ve become a servant, nurse, cook, manager. 24/7. It happens slowly. You accept your role as a loving and responsible partner to someone who is quite happy with the situation. A narcissist. 

It’s important to know what that word means. Just in case you know one. Seems there are lots of me, me folks around us.

Via Lewis Huckstep of YouTube

Worth considering

So do some thinking, guys and gals. Do you really need a house of your own? Or can it be wiser, as you consider your needs, your ambitions, your joy in life, to consider really turning everything upside down? Selling, leaving a situation, donating your stuff, and possibly renting.

That is a major consideration these days. Rental accommodation, the kind you’d like, is overpriced and very hard to find. So you’d better have your ducks in a row if you plan to up stakes, have a good nest egg from your property, and be willing to do the hard things when it comes to moving. It isn’t easy.

There’s one kind of rental that you can miss, as you’re not looking for it. It’s the independent living, in a retirement building. Yes, the same type that gave you the shudders in my first paragraph here.

Independent retired living rental is not like assisted living, where you do need some help with bodily functions. You have to be able to manage. You pay a fixed amount each month. That pretty well covers everything you need. If you’re strapped for cash, you may even qualify for some government assistance.

If you find the right place it will probably be a well established slightly older building. The residents and staff will be very long term. That means everyone is happy and friendly. That’s the only kind of place you need to consider. 

The one I’m now familiar with brings breakfast to a little table outside your room. Then there are another two gourmet meals supplied throughout the day. Suddenly you’re living in a whole different world. It’s the one where you dreamed of more often getting, instead of always giving. Lots of social interaction…or none, according to your choice.

NO BREAKFAST-Early golf, thanks!

Image via VickiW

Creatives

If you’re a writer, all of a sudden you’re in a situation where you can write anytime, under any circumstances you choose, without interruption. This applies to other work or play situations too!

I always love your comments. They encourage more writing work from me. So thank you for reading here, and may you enjoy your life, in whichever way you choose it to be. 

Garden to kitchen!

Carrot muffins, still slightly warm from the oven, appeared on the breakfast menu this morning. Yesterday there were fruit scones, with raspberries donated from one of the resident’s garden. 

Anyone can reserve a generous garden bed, and grow their own particular delight. Sharing is caring!

Image via VickiW

Going Solo: Is this time to jump on an ice floe?

 

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

Transitions

The stages of life are interesting. As you go through them each one leads to more knowledge of the lifetime you’ve been blessed to have, or, in war torn countries, the cursed and awful reality of it all.

Some lives are short, others last about a century. The fascinating thing about the stages though is you don’t really know about each one before experiencing it. 

Then you look back at the one you’ve just passed through, and congratulate yourself at how much more advanced you are these days.

The older you get the more mysterious you become. You’re being judged by those younger than you, and they’re all wondering how and why you keep on living. From their perspective, getting older is like actually lurking around the gates of hell. 

Is it a must?

Seriously, what’s the sense of living if your fingers aren’t nimble enough to operate your smart phone with ease? If you can’t plug in your printer because you know you can’t get up once you get down?

Image via krapalm of Pixabay

Or if you can actually live quite happily without being ruled by screens of some kind each and every day? 

Yeah, we, the older folks come from earlier places where the “global village” wasn’t yet thought of.

Where monks in remote places used to spend many happy hours in silent prayer with their Being. 

Now of course they have smart phones just like anyone else. These allow them not only to do their prayer jobs with much more efficiency, but also to be wide-ranging in this world of high tech everywhere. And so it goes. 

The global village 

...has morphed into a global screen catastrophe. Infants, often less than 12 months of age, are mesmerized by TVs, phones and handy other devices everywhere they go. 

The amount of vicious, tragic daily harm visited on each other in this world is startling. Where’s the feeling for the pain of others? 

Ever wondered why brain scientists and the World Health Organization recommend NO screen time for babies under two, and only one hour a day for those aged two to four years old? 

There is a lot of brain study research on screen use during these early years. What it clearly shows is that learning from other humans in a child’s life is massive. Learning from machines is quite different. 

The big concern is how screen learning hijacks attention spans and compassion in children. That young brain needs time to process learning. When you read to a child they have that time as they listen to your voice. This does not happen when a child watches rapid, unrealistic movements on a screen.

When they hear you talk of kindness to others, and see you demonstrate it in your daily life it is a powerful example. As they observe your resilience when hard things happen and you rise above it they know they can do the hard things too. 

Possibly one of the greatest things you can do for a child is interact with them as an interested older person. 

Yeah, I know. We thought we’d done our share. But we hadn’t counted on screens and technology. 

After all, these youngsters will inevitably run your country one day. 

If they didn’t learn to focus, analyze and develop compassion for you in your older years, the future looks quite bleak for you. 

I know. When you become of the senior persuasion you should try not to inconvenience the beautiful young ones with the bodies that still work as they should. 

Image via Myrians-Fotos of Pixabay

To be completely honest, for me to jump on an ice floe and make a graceful exit by starvation doesn’t exactly appeal to me. 

Golden era

Selfishly, in my latter years I would like to be pampered, respected and loved. I’ve managed to outlive many so far, and enjoy weird things, like being alone at times, reading an actual book, observing what’s happening up in the skies without actually traveling, going for walks, admiring all forms of nature. And yes, appreciating technology that allows me to communicate this to you. 

Would I have ended up being this me, if I’d been exposed to screens in my very early life? We’ll never know. 

One of my newer friends, 94 years of age, revealed the secret of her long life to me. “Lots of sugar, lots of salt. Lots of laughter.” She said it with a twinkle in her macular-degenerated eyes. Humour. That’s another thing you only learn from others during your early years.

Lithops in recovery mode

Whether you’re plant or animal, it’s a tough going to reproduce your species. Particularly if the slightest wrong move means your death.

 

Here’s a week's progress in the poor little collection of lithops I presented last week. 

Those young ones are bursting out at the lower levels. They really dislike the overstretched parenting examples they’ve been forced to live with. They’ve started to extract all the moisture from them. 

Thanks...

I sincerely appreciate your company on this journey and looking forward to having you back again soon.

VickiW

It’s good to be good, to your aging self

 

A somewhat embarrassing, yet necessary post

It’s been a while and I realize I'm out of practice in compiling a post. The weeks have gone by, almost unnoticed and my writing routine seemed to disappear into the grey beyond. 

My apologies to all of you who have steadily remained, waiting for me to write again. Friends texting, emailing, calling. I owe you all a debt of gratitude.

For many of us, when we live together for a couple decades, we often think we know the main person in our life. We forgive and forget the occasional craziness they show. In my case, with me at 80 years of age, and he at 91, I realize we’ve both been occasionally guilty of the same weird compulsions, although I must emphasize, in my case. I like to think much less often.

Life chugs on with a daily monotony that’s sometimes even comforting in its simplicity. No more travelling, unless it’s a walk downstairs, taking our garbage in the white bags, recycling in the blue ones, and kitchen scraps in the brown recyclable ones, to their assigned bins.

The years train us...

We learn how to bring out the compassion in our hearts, when needed. We tell ourselves, often on a daily basis, that things could be so much worse. That’s true. It’s an indisputable fact of life, and it’s an aspect that often qualifies for dull and boring.

But darn it, I don’t want boring! I crave better, but better has been elusive.  

Challenging transitions

Last year was a hard one. Moving away from much-loved friends and activities was painful indeed. On the plus side, my beloved family was suddenly close. That made it a good move. That has not changed, and I love it.

Things strike us down, when we get more mature. Forget the ridiculous business of “aging can be like becoming fine wine or the best, Parmesan cheese.” No, not unless we’re willing to go the heavily Botoxed route, and keep it up.

Not much to get excited over

We become painfully aware of our body’s shortcomings, and let’s not talk about the forgetfulness that besets us all of a sudden! Maybe it’s not that sudden…I forget when it started.…

Illness can strike with or without warning, and it can be serious enough to be life-threatening. It can mean the end, creeping on to the end or fighting on, out of sheer cussedness. 

Yeah, illness can suddenly become a very big deal!

We get texted invitations from our government advising to get yet another Covid shot. We’re in a vulnerable age apparently. Should we, or shouldn’t we?

After all, at least for me, there’s the unpleasant memory still lurking of a leg clot that took a year to recover from after contracting Covid-19…

As if all this wasn’t enough, I discovered my spouse wasn’t exactly who he’d professed to be, for all these years. 

I know it happens a lot with illness during the latter years, but this is different. Changing his will behind my back, nary a word said, was just a step too far over the proverbial red line. After all, this was our financial future, and I thought we’d been building it together for the years to come.  

This filing cabinet discovery meant there was only one option, and forgiveness didn’t even count. Trust had gone, never to return. 

The painful, yet necessary steps included separation and divorce. 

I immediately started legal proceedings.

Recently, I heard a female physician, 103 years old, describe the worst event in her life. She and her husband had been married 46 years. They did everything together, even down to writing books. 

One day, out of the blue, he asked her for a divorce. She was completely shattered. She screamed and cried. Years passed while she rose from the ashes of her marriage and built a career for herself. 

After another interval, with her new-found appreciation of her abilities she wrote a kind letter to her ex, thanking him for freeing her to grasp all the new opportunities in her life.

I’m looking forward to writing a similar letter of gratitude. 

Micro-Gardening: Glorious flowers everywhere! 

It’s worthwhile considering, even with the best of care, weather can be changeable and cause havoc in the plant world. 

This week I’ve noticed some pretty startling changes in my lithops succulents. 

Like a lot of other things in my life, they had been somewhat neglected. They didn’t get enough sunshine and stretched out to try and find it.  

This does provide us with an example of what plant-world determination can do to prevent catastrophe.

Image via VickiW

See the long one touching the label? The new one under it is determined to end up in its right place.

All of these lithops (living stones) are dividing and will look very different soon. They evolved in this way to protect themselves from animal predators in the desert of Namibia.

Thanks!

If you've experienced a sudden life change that forced you into a new normal, please share your experience in the comments. Even anonymous comments are welcome! VickiW

Reno done… NOW we’re cookin’!

 

Image via Carola68 of Pixabay

Welcome back!

It’s been a while! The word that best seems to describe it since the big move from Sechelt is “fraught”. 

A relatively simple word, yet according to dictionary definitions it may be used to define many types of situations, none of which are particularly peaceful or relaxed.

Words like anxious, stressed, self-query, as in “why did I do this?”

Everything is fraught!

But today is different. The kitchen renovation is completed. I’ve survived two major hurdles in life. Moving from my beloved Sechelt and friends to be closer to family was the right move at the right time. 

The kitchen was another matter entirely. I’d almost managed to convince myself that cooking in a room that was like a dark box wasn’t really that bad. You just get used to it. Quite amazing really. That was quite a life lesson.

Image via VickiW

Original kitchen, showing part of the peninsula forming a box, with overhead cabinets that destroyed light and sight.

The boxy kitchen

Image via VickiW

I really couldn’t imagine anything different. A rainy winter. The darkness of the weather seemed to coordinate with the lack of modern lighting in the home, so that it all just didn’t matter any more. 

The old, sunshine ceiling.
Image via VickiW

The wall between the kitchen and proposed dining room, that needed to go.

Image via VickiW

Lighting it up!

We had decided from the beginning that a newer, lighter kitchen would help things a lot. I had finally decided on a crew to do the work after a good recommendation from our lovely realtor. She had nurtured us through the move and well after.

The first two husky guys known as “demolishers” came by bright and early, at 7.30 am. 

Just before that a dazed looking Bob had tottered through to the living room. Obviously something was very wrong. The two young men helped him back into the bed and stayed with him while I called the paramedics.

Anyway, long story, and he was in emergency, then in a hospital ward for a week. 

At times like this you realize how important organization is. The project manager proved to be amazing. He presented us with a program detailing what would happen each day, until the end of the project. He estimated the new and improved kitchen would take just over a month to completion. (...polite small snorts of derision from friends about my trusting belief that this would happen on time...) But, it did.

Image via VickiW

Applaudable attention to detail!

They put up huge sheets of plastic like curtains to protect the rest of the house and they vacuumed and cleaned up after themselves each day.

Cam, our delightful, conscientious manager, visited about every day to inspect or work on each stage as it completed. He seemed to have an endless list of folks who knew exactly what to do, and when they were to do it.

They removed debris each day too and made sure to keep the toilet clean!

Looking through the plastic film. Floor to ceiling, but the dust still settles on everything.

Image via VickiW

A calm progression...

In spite of all their efforts, the amount of dust that escaped into the rest of the home was just amazing. I had bought an air purifier in Sechelt, when we were surrounded by fires, and now you could see it gnashing it’s virtual teeth as it tried to keep up with interior air pollution.

While all this was going on we had family support in any way they could think of. That move was definitely a good thing, in spite of the fact that I was now a fully fledged caregiver. More about that soon. But it is definitely fraught!

After at first anxiously looking through each day’s progress, I suddenly became calm. There was no feeling of complete chaos, as I’d been warned. It was a joy to watch the competent skill sets that each small team of journeymen applied to their particular part of the project. 

I’m proud of our journeymen. No wonder these days kids want to qualify and be one. They are spurning university studies in favour of trade schools. Makes sense if you think about it. So much new housing is needed. Journeymen can get good employment anywhere.

This was no easy fix. All necessary  old materials needed to be carefully removed, bagged if necessary, and packed in a big truck for disposal.

Image via VickiW

This was the time when the doorway and an annoying wall that stopped all work flow were removed. See the big beam that now runs across the space where the wall and door were gone..

Now there was a naked ceiling. It was packed with huge depths of pink insulation. On the surface were special acoustic bars that prevent noise transfer between the top and bottom condos. Amazing,  the difference between building 40 years ago and now. 

Below, is the temporary small sink is going in. It was so good to have, rather than using the bathroom sink!

Image via VickiW

Making due...

I’m not going to pretend renovation is easy. Being able to keep the original fridge/freezer and stove was a bonus.

A microwave turned out to be the only means of cooking, although in summer it would be easy to cook out on the balcony. By the end of the month though, reno-fatigue has set in, no matter how kind everyone is. 

Image via VickiW

The finale

Work proceeded just as it was supposed to. Suddenly beautiful results started to appear. after everything had been ripped apart for so long. Flooring, cabinets, sink, appliances were all there. A beautiful big open space with tons of cupboard space, enough lovely floor to dance on, and a beautiful little dining area. 

Moving to a new community and new home is not easy. Putting your own stamp on the new place requires an energy that is often hard to find as you age. 

The kindest, nicest people around you make the best seasoning for your daily work in home and kitchen. When you’re able to look on the renovation with delight, and use it just the way you hoped you could, it definitely seems worthwhile!

Putting it all together

A creek-side stroll

Our feathered neighbors and other beautiful aspects of life along the creek.

Mama goose, sitting on her eggs. Papa goose, not far away, was hissing at passersby, but he quieted with some gentle acknowledgement. 

 

Images via VickiW

Morning reflections...

Thank you!

I hope you’ve enjoyed your visit, and appreciate your interest in my re-homing adventures, from Canada’s Sunshine Coast to the mainland. Although challenging, many good things are coming from it.

VickiW

Chorleywood: Ultra-fast bread!

 

Image via VickiW

Strange how memories from early life return as you age. Short-term ones would be nice, and are actually more important, day to day, but those long-term ones from so long ago keep on thrusting themselves forward.

These days after the advent of computers, iPads, smartphones, internet, and the World Wide Web, things have changed so radically in present lives that you almost long for a break from it all.

It isn’t just those tech things that have altered life, so that it’s almost unrecognizable. It’s what has followed. 

Take bread for instance. See this loaf bought from the local supermarket 10 weeks ago? Yes, it’s stood on my counter, wrapped in its plastic bag, long enough to create blue mold on any other foodstuff you can think of.

Perfect, uniform, commercial bread slices

Image sofi5t of Pixabay

The thing is, it still looks as fresh as the day it was bought. Not only that, it feels just as fresh. I don’t plan to make a sandwich from it. But I’m completely overawed when I realize that technically, I could. When I make bread, as often as I can, I’m joining the ranks of so many others these days. These are the folks who just know from a health point of view that homemade is very much better for you. They are people who find the time in their 24 hours to make a batch of bread. It’s not that easy these days. People are struggling to afford feeding their families, or even themselves in many instances. Greedy landlords, voracious CEOs of major companies, all do their level best to ensure corporate profits remain astoundingly high, while they are also seemingly unable to think about the pain of so many folks these days. This is not the first time people have suffered from a shortage of, or inferior quality in their bread. Bakers used to grind their own flour, and they were heavy loaves, but nothing had been taken out or added in. Bread was indeed “the staff of life” and kept people healthy, with the addition of simple unprocessed foods.

Home-baked Image via VickiW

Faster isn't always an improvement...

Until the late 19th century milling flour was a slow process. But when a new commercial method was introduced in Chorleywood, England, all this changed. Suddenly mills could produce 20 tonnes of flour in an hour. This process also separated the different parts of the wheat grain, giving a lighter flour but without the health-giving bran and germ. The main part of the grain is about 90% endosperm, the starchy part.

Have you ever wondered why, if you read the list of ingredients on flour, vitamins are added? The answer is that the new and improved method of making bread in gigantic factories and supermarkets actually removes the nutrients that we expect to find in our bread. 

This coincides with the global health problems that societies face today. In an effort to replace the missing nutrients extracted with the modern bread-making methods they, plus dozens of other “improvers” and additives must be carefully weighed out and added back to the “no fermenting” time of the dough. This is by order of governments who realized health problems were escalating quickly.  

The baking that follows is quick. No messing around.

It’s very complicated, this Chorleywood high-tech machine process. Actually, more time is spent with cooling and packaging the bread than baking it. Forget about the hours of allowing yeast to slowly work its magic. That time is cut to ribbons.

After the 10 weeks that my little “whole-wheat” loaf has sat on my kitchen counter I looked at it again today. No change. Still soft, nice texture. Still brown, perfectly baked. Still smells okay. No mould to be seen. I’m wondering how long the supermarket bread is classified as being “fresh” after baking? Lots of folks buy it.

Should I do the taste test? I’m tempted, purely from a research point of view.

All good!

I did it! ¼ slice, with butter and my neighbour Jim’s strawberry jam made in October.  The bread tasted fine! It gives a whole new meaning to fresh. How would I ever know what that means now, with supermarket bread?

I didn’t get sick. I felt fine. But I have to wonder if I’d feel the same on a steady daily diet of it?

10-week-old “fresh whole-wheat” Chorleywood bread Image via VickiW

It’s not that difficult to see the possibility that profit might be the underlying cause of much illness in populations. The Chorleywood rapid bread-making process has spread throughout the world. The nutrients that once were in the grains are removed, then carefully replaced after treatment, together with dozens of additives. Swift baking follows. 

It’s always worthwhile to look at the labeling of food these days. But know that in modern, speedy baking, many of the ingredients simply don’t have to end up on those labels. 

It all started with Chorleywood…

Image via Google Maps

New Year With a Daddy Long Legs

A New Year's Day

Wow, Christmas seemed to disappear very quickly! I look around me today, on the first one of 2024, and now no vestiges of that day remain.

The decorations are neatly packed into two vintage tubs that came with us on the long trek from Sechelt to Chilliwack. 

There is a sigh of realizing the joy of being close to family at this point. I still miss the wonderful friends in Sechelt, but I know they are still there. It just remains at their point to devote energy to getting settled here.

Christmas, wherever

We used to travel every Christmas, used to find joy in seeking out remote islands, and living there for a while. That was good, especially as we now have those wonderful memories.

But now we’re entering a different time of life, with different health issues, and different age. Probably many others will be doing the same today. 

After all, this is the time for New Year's resolutions. Usually, the aims are pretty high, and this can be a trap in itself. I believe in allowing yourself a lot of leeway in these goals. That way you can at least succeed, in part! That helps to reinforce belief in your own abilities. 

So instead of confining yourself to success of an ultimate self-improvement goal by a definite date, how about starting on it, and assessing your results through the year? After all, starting is good, much better than doing nothing towards whatever it is, right? Life is unexpected.

The guest

This morning I approached my easy-to-clean, immaculate white shower. But wait, something sullied that sheer white perfection. Was it dust? 

On closer inspection “it” turned out to be a very spindly-looking Daddy long legs. I marvelled briefly at the fragile-looking, long legs and minuscule body before turning on the water. The long legs was going to be just fine, as it was at the non-pressurized part of the shower. 

Image via BlueSeaShell of Pixabay

Beyond myself

I used shampoo and body wash soap. The water was comfortingly warm. Then the thoughts started crowding in. 

I was thinking about the masses of humanity that are displaced because of war. How do they manage? No soap, no washing facilities. No food, no beds. Nothing that could  give them the comfort of having any type of home. 

I cannot even imagine their grief, despair and sadness. The women especially. They always seem to come off worst in these situations. Would the world actually be better off with women in charge? They have a thing about their menfolks getting injured or killed. 

Other thoughts intruded. I wondered whether the daddy long legs was actually a daddy, or a mommy? Hard to tell. 

I do know though that daddy long legs, although related to spiders, are actually related but not actual spiders.  Also that the dads actually completely care for their infants. The moms skedaddle after the babes arrive. 

So there goes my theory about women in charge.

After my shower I toweled dry. I had resolved not to get side-tracked from the daddy long legs in its precarious position on the slippery wall. But to my disappointment, he/she had gone! Just like that. But wait, no, there was indeed a lonely trace of the creature.

Daddy long legs have a way of voluntarily discarding a leg to marauding attackers. 

Apologies for the lighting

Image via VickiW.

They have eight, and can’t regrow them, so this is a sacrifice indeed. If I see this particular one again, I’ll be counting the legs. Speaking of which, those legs look incredibly fragile, and definitely much longer than a normal spider has.

Their tiny pill-like bodies have those outrageously long legs all attached in one place to them, and they only have two eyes. So they’re not particularly well designed as far as self defence goes. Their long legs make a convenient hold for birds, if they happen to venture outside.

I'd happily keep lots of them in the house, as they eat all kinds of decomposed matter that they probably can see more than me. ( I’m legendary for not being the best house cleaner, and we do have quite a bit of carpeting.)

So it was a sad thing that this particular daddy considered me a predator. 

A blend

New Years are times of sad and glad, all mixed up. We went out for dinner last night with our neighbours. Just before it was delivered to our table an ambulance arrived, right on the opposite side of the road. 

There we were, eating delicious food. For the next hour or so, obviously the paramedics were busy working frantically to resuscitate two folks lying on the ground who’d overdosed on drugs. Sometimes it’s hard to reconcile these things.

I want to thank all my readers, all over the world for reading here. I’m hoping you’ll all have the absolute best year in 2024.

Looking for Peace

From over your shoulder...

Why does peace seem to be such a most elusive commodity these days? Has it always been there, just out of reach for most? I was struck by this as I walked around and noticed the word coming up over and over in the glittering house Christmas decorations all around us. 

It’s easy to confuse actions with feelings when you think about peace. It is an intangible quality after all. It’s written about frequently. It means something different to everyone searching for it. Yet instinctively they all know it must be worthwhile if only they could find it.

It’s vast. It’s out there somewhere.

Image via crazyhorseladycx

This holiday season

I’ve heard it described as “your” peace. Similar to “your” truth. So maybe these are individual things. Those of us who think in black-and-white terms, with little grey in between, will always believe in right versus wrong, and only one truth. That’s what makes people interesting.

This Christmas I had a hard time thinking about presents for loved ones and friends. Seems to me, we all have so much anyway. I continue to sort “stuff” since the epic move in May. My mind is scrambled. It definitely isn’t at peace. 

It will be so good once all the kitchen renovation is done, as I’ll really be able to get rid of all kinds of boxed mysteries that still lurk in the storage locker downstairs. It’s an exciting project, as the additional room will allow me to continue learning about podcasts that I’d love to do. Downside. It doesn’t encourage peace of mind.

Christmas Day this year, just a couple of days ago, gave me a precious gift. I had felt furious and belittled by a very close friend. My anger had lasted weeks. I’d resolved never to have any kind of relationship with said person again. I felt so hurt and angry that the easiest thing would seem to be just to cut off the friendship. But after years of great friendship, that prospect certainly didn’t give me peace of mind.

Then a Christmas miracle woke me early in the morning. It was the strangest thing. A feeling of warmth and contentment flooded me. There was no warning. It was just there. Something, someone had bestowed a gift to me. 

Image via Leolo212 of Pixabay

Hmmm...

I can’t say it was forgiveness. The feeling was so much more than that. It was just quiet joy, knowing I have so much in life. Most of all, that I’m blessed with a mostly fully functioning mind. (Forget the fact that I actually need my GPS to find my way around a shopping centre!)

It was as if my mind gently played all the things in my life that can be considered wonderful blessings. A new appreciation, a resurrection of contentment that washed away the sadness and anger that had taken over in the last while. Those emotions had vanished. Peace, and the urge to find even more of it, had suddenly taken its place.

The greatest truth in all of this was the perfect joy of finding “my” peace. It was the knowledge that now I’ve seen what it looks like I can turn to the feeling every time I need it to cope with sad and bad events in life. It is like actually being able to descend into a deep well of human kindness that makes you want to pass that feeling on.

This, in the midst of global wars, hatred, and complete disregard for fellow human beings. There are so many times when you just simply despair of any improvement in the world situation.

At the same time, it’s important to remember, so many others in the world are gradually starting to cause change. That you’re not just a voice in the wilderness. 

In the last gasp of 2023 Bogotá, Columbia has commenced escalating taxes on ultra-processed foods. Their government recognizes how this scourge is causing health mayhem in their people. Cancer, diabetes and other awful non-infectious diseases have been shown to increase as populations eat more and more junk food. 

Image via TheDigitalArtist of Pixabay

Looking forward

2024 will no doubt see much more in the way many governments add “fat taxes,” VAT tax and so forth. They are now becoming aware of how medical issues drain their coffers. Also how coffers can be easily filled with even small extra taxes on sugary drinks and processed foods. 

Remember, if you’re about to eat food from a package or a bag it is most likely an ultra-processed food. It’s always a good thing to try and visualize possible easy replacements.

The days are getting longer. Just by minuscule amounts. I cannot really feel the difference yet, but I know it’s happening. Similar to my feeling of peace. There is a slight feeling of satisfaction intermingled somehow. I’ve managed to survive another year. 

What will the next one bring? A ripple of excitement, of expectation, disturbs the flow of my thoughts. But that new discovery, the peace, remains undisturbed. I will turn to it, try to cling to it, no matter what the next year will bring.

Wow, we’re at the end of 2023. It’s been an event-filled time. Now on to another year ahead. My wish for you is that it will be the best it can possibly be for you–and, may the world find peace.

Christmas: Some hints for happiness

 

Image via neelam279 of Pixabay

How it feels depends on...

Christmas is an emotional time. Depending on what your childhood was like, your work situation, your health and that of your loved ones, it can be a real mixed bag this year. 

Finances seem to come heavily into it too. Enough? Too little? For what? This is a good time to face your reality, and set out to enjoy things, no matter what blocks seem to be in the way. You really don’t need to spend a lot for folks to like you.

Food is important too. Turkeys and ham dominate of course, and this is a time when you can either congratulate yourself on putting away a little in your budget for the past eleven months, or rack your brains to find alternatives. It is possible.

Thanks to our traumatic move this year we will be able to share our Christmas celebration with our family members, and it is such a special thought. The other good thing was that I’m completely unmotivated to feel pressure in gift-giving this year. The move saw to that!

Some things are treasured by family, no matter how humble. This is a good time to dig them out and look at them in the light of day. One of them in our family is the old button box. 

The family button box, about 60 years old now. Still a treasure of memories for a daughter, granddaughter and now great-granddaughter!

Images via VickiW

Then, this Christmas some carefully sorted bigger ones for my lovely little great-granddaughter. She’ll probably add them to the big box as she gets older and less likely to put them in her mouth.

All gift-giving was of “stuff” that someone else could use and enjoy. I have given some money to those who seemed to really need it, and for those who live out of Canada. Simply no point in paying huge postage bills, and adding to the landfills with wrapping. 

Fav dishes

Food now, that’s a whole different thing! 

Yes, my kitchen still begs to have the renovation begun, but I don’t think that will happen until the workmen have recovered from their Christmases, and the municipality experts have given our condo project their blessing.

But thanks to my beloved pressure cooker I will be contributing some rather nice-looking Brussels sprouts to our feast. I had prepared myself for a huge uptick in their price, but wow, the first thing I spied in the supermarket was a huge pile of them at a special, very low price.

Just in case you might like to try this fabulous way of preparing them, I’m sharing this old recipe with you! It does need a slow cooker/ crockpot, so I hope you have one.

                

Image via VickiW

For the twelve folks that I hope will enjoy this, I used the following...

First step ingredients

About 4 lbs Brussels sprouts, washed, bottom edge trimmed off, and cut in half.

½ cup pure maple syrup

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil 

1 tsp salt

About 1 tsp ground pepper

For later on

1 ½ cups cranberries

1 ½ cups feta cheese ( crumbled and divided)

(Oh dear! Forgot to include the feta in the above ingredients pic! Must have been thinking of my son-in-law, who hates it!)

The first step ingredients are all going into the slow cooker, with the lid on.  My slow cooker cycle is on my pressure cooker. Now they’re just going to cook slowly for about 2 ½ hours. You’ll find they still need more cooking until they are tender, so please test them by poking a sharp knife or a skewer into them.

After this first time, the sprouts need a gentle stir with a metal spoon.

At the same time, you’re going to put the cranberries into the mixture, and if you wish you can also add half the crumbled feta cheese. 

Continue cooking until your test poke shows the sprouts are tender all the way through. 

When you want to serve, add the reserved feta crumbled on top. This dish is best served warm, but it is easy to reheat, either in the microwave or on the stovetop.

I believe you’ll have great enjoyment from your company with this simple dish. 

To all my dear friends and readers throughout the world - please know how much you are appreciated! 

Image via VickiW

Until next time...

May you have the best possible Christmas, wherever you are. My heart aches for those of you who experience less fortune at this time. My biggest gifts this year have been to food banks.