My Red Ceramic Mug, The One From Starbucks

 Saturday, March 6, 2021

strong

/strôNG/

1.

having the power to move heavy weights or perform other physically demanding tasks.

2.

able to withstand great force or pressure.

In my life, during particularly difficult times,  I've been told by well meaning family, friends and even mere acquaintances to "be strong" or "stay strong" or "you are stronger than you think."

Ironically,  hearing those "supportive" phrases during the hardest of times, usually makes me feel quite the opposite.   

Today is one of those days where I feel quite the opposite.  Today, I will acknowledge that I am tired.  All the way around tired.  Physically, emotionally, intellectually, sleep deprived, just plain tired.  

Why is today a day for this admission?  I mean it's been a year of tough, tiring days, right?

We, billions of people are tired, right? 

The whole world is being told to "hang in there", "be strong". 

Unplanned and without much thought, we, Ross and I, (mostly me, Ross is having a harder time) have fallen into a routine which may be our (my) way of coping.   Probably having a routine has created some kind of normalcy, for me, at least. 

There are designated days for laundry, food shopping and house cleaning. On a daily basis we basically do the same things at the same time each day.   The days have turned into weeks and months and now a year. 

My mornings are my "me" time.  I usually get up an hour or two before Ross.  I come into the kitchen, turn on the light and open the blinds.  I fill my tea pot with water.   While I wait for the water to boil, I cross off the previous day on the calendar, write the new date on the white board and empty the dishwasher. 

Then I usually take my tea into the living room, turn on the news, scroll through my phone and just sit and sip for a few quiet moments.

When I hear Ross start to stir, I know the day is off to its usual start, breakfast, straightening, running whatever errands there are to be done, lunch, straightening, TV, dinner, straightening, maybe a Facetime or phone call, TV, then bed.  Of course, knitting has its place throughout the day. 

Our life is simple, I suppose.  We are comfortable.  I am truly grateful for the ability to have food in the fridge and pantry.  

We have our challenges, though and life isn't fair.  There are the days when I need to step outside, in my stocking feet, onto the hard concrete front porch and feel the shock of icy cold all the way up from my toes to my face. 

weak

/wēk/

1.

lacking the power to perform physically demanding tasks; lacking physical strength and energy.

2.

liable to break or give way under pressure; easily damaged.

Today, I poured the boiling water into my favorite mug.  It's the red ceramic one from Starbucks with the lid to keep my tea nice and hot.  And as per my usual routine, I headed into the living room to settle into my comfy chair.  It's the big oversize leather with the matching foot stool.  

On my way to the chair, I noticed drops of water on the floor.  I also noticed that my hand was wet beneath the mug.  Condensation? 

I took the mug back into the kitchen, set it down on a paper towel while I wiped up the drops on the floor. When I went back into the kitchen to get my tea, the paper towel was wet.  My favorite red ceramic mug, the one from Starbucks was leaking.  

And just like that, my routine, like the red ceramic mug, my favorite one, the one from Starbucks, had been broken. 

Perhaps that's what made today a culmination  of all those particularly difficult times, the hardest of the hard.  

It made today, the kind of day where I long for  a moment, please, to lay down the heavy weight, and give way to the pressure.  

The kind of day where for a moment, please, I need to crawl into myself,  pull the softness all the way up over my whole being, and rest in my cocoon.

A Hopeful Couple of Updates

 Just a couple of updates:

Hah, I didn't realize until I decided to do this update that my last two posts were about future goals.  

My future.  

Recently, I haven't thought about my future in any sort of positive way.  

Sure, I admit it,  I may be spending way too much time wallowing around somewhere down in the deep dark crevices of gloom and doom. But, apparently, subconsciously, there appears to be, although somewhat dim at times, a light of hope flickering through those crevices. 

The first of my last two posts was about knitting socks.  My goal?  Knit 100 pairs of socks.  

The update? Since that post I have knit another 5 pairs, which brings the total to 19 pairs.

One of the pairs was specially custom made for Ross.  Can you guess which one?

I have been knitting on other things in between.  Or I should say I have started several other projects.  That's what I like about these little socks.  Once I cast on a pair I seem to be driven to finish them.  It's the goal thing.  I'm convinced of that. 

The second of my last two posts was written two weeks ago on September 6.  It was  about a "weight loss" journey I have set upon.  In that post I talked about how I had begun to walk 20-30 minutes a day, six days a week.  

At the time I figured that's all I would need to do to loose the LB's.  But, as I soon found out, walking  wasn't going to be enough.

Last week I added an eating plan to the goal.  I started out using the "My Fitness Pal" app.  It's a great app.  But, it didn't seem to be working for me.  My daughter recently started using the WW (weight watchers)  app.  She said she liked it.  I signed up a few days ago.  For now, I do like it better than "My Fitness Pal".  For the record, I have lost 3 pounds.  

I'm still walking.  And now I have Ross walking with me.  I walk a bit faster than he does, so I walk ahead of him, turn around walk back to him, and then walk ahead of him again.  Sometimes he takes a little rest. 

While I was writing this post the phrase "Hope Springs Eternal" came to mind.  It seemed appropriate to use that somewhere in this post.  I decided to research the origin of the phrase before I included it.  I wanted to make sure I was using it correctly. 

The phrase is taken from "An Essay on Man: Epistle I" by Alexander Pope. written in 1733. 

I had never read it and I found it quite powerful.  I will re-read it again and again.  

Here is the section containing the "Hope Springs Eternal" phrase:

"Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions soar;

Wait the great teacher Death; and God adore!

What future bliss, he gives not thee to know,

But gives that hope to be thy blessing now.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast:

Man never is, but always to be blest:

The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,

Rests and expatiates in a life to come."

 My interpretation of his meaning is that it is the hope of an eternal life to come which enables us to endure through this life.  What do you think?

My hope to complete rather less lofty goals seem to be quite attainable here on this earth and in this life. 

Links to my last two posts are here:

"100 Pairs of Shorties"

Cheer Me On

Cheer Me On!

Oh boy!  For the past few months, I intentionally haven't been weighing myself.  You know how even if you don't get on the scale you just know that if you did, you wouldn't be surprised?
It's not even a matter of my clothes not fitting the same,  I feel the extra heavy I've been lugging around.
I wondered if the weight of the world's problems along with my own personal woes, had somehow slowed down my metabolism.   Of course it couldn't be my past six month couch potato-ness or the nightly snack of cookies, ice cream or pie, could it?  I have a sneaky suspicion that it's combination of it all sprinkled with a dusting of depression.

Yeah, so last week I did step on the scale.  And yeah, I wasn't shocked.

But what to do about it.

I thought, I know I will start a blog series on how I'm going to cut the heavy loose.   I'm tired of carrying it around.  It's exhausting.
I know what you're thinking.  "Oh no not another blogger thinking  their public forum space will be a great incentive to stay honest and on track.  Ha!  Like that ever works.  Usually, the series just fades away somewhere between gung-ho and giving up."  That's what you're thinking, isn't it?

I'll pretend I didn't hear that.

So, this week I walked 6 of the 7 days.  I'm taking today off.  It's Sunday.
I'm starting off slow, walking about a 20 minute mile, and walking an average distance of about an extra 1.5 miles a day.
My muscles ache and I haven't lost an ounce.  However, I'm still at the gung-ho stage and not ready to give up.

Cheer me on.  It might help to stretch out the "I'm Going To Lose Weight, You'll See" series for at least another week.

Thanks
😀