Sunday, April 14, 2019

Is it beautiful here

I am cat and house sitting for my daughter.  Her cat has always been considered unpredictable and a bit fierce.  I am not sure if it's age or what, but Mister has a very sweet disposition.  He's completely deaf, which doesn't really bother either of us.

Mister, my grand cat

There are trees of various kinds that I cannot identify blooming all over.  And a few I can.    I am putting a few pictures on here to share the beauty;

Courtney's front steps

The back of Courtney's house

My Facebook post about my day

I am staying at my daughter's house in NE Portland, Oregon. She left her car here for me to use. I have 
driven in Portland before. Many of my friends know that I do not like driving on elevated roads, and 

Portland had a lot of them. But I digress. I decided to go to Target today. My GPS told me that Target is 3 

miles away. I had my phone/ GPS sitting in the console in the car. It tipped over and when I set it back up 

I guess I touched the screen and re-set something . Next thing I know I am on the Freeway. It didn't 

seem right, but I kept following directions. When the lady in my GPS told me that I would reach my 

destination in 416 miles, I knew something was wrong. Got off the Freeway into a neighborhood. Re-set 

the GPS and found my way. While at Target I bought a clip for my phone to stay seated while I drove. 

The 3 mile drive home was uneventful


I am "home".   I was born in Portland, Oregon.  My family left when I was a baby, so I don't have any memory of being here as an infant.   Just pictures.

I have been back.   Many times. All through my life.  As a small child we came here.  My father's mother lived in McMinnville.   His brother and his brother's family lived near my grandmother.  Another of my uncles lived in Portland and another in Medford   And, of course their families- my Aunts and cousins.

I have always thought of Oregon as one of my homes.   I have always loved this place.   I have dreamed of living here and even (fantasy) buying the house we lived in when I was born.

Three of my adult children live in the west.  Two in Oregon and one in Seattle, Washington.

And so, here I am again.  This time I am house and pet sitting in my daughter's house.   Watching TV.  Reading a bit.Resting a lot  Not working on any of the various needle craft projects I brought with me.

My "normal" M.O. is to "do".  Always doing things.  Cleaning.  Visiting family and friends.  In the case of this trip, I assumed that I would be doing what I usually do.  Clean.  Wipe finger prints away.  Fold all the linens.  Make everything seem spotless.  And I would be out and about.  My daughter left me her car to drive.

Instead, I am being calm and sedentary.  I guess that how to put it. 

I think that my body and soul needed this.   I have been for walks in the neighborhood.   Not every day.  The first couple of days I don't think I went anywhere at all, venturing out the front door and the back door.  Not leaving the property.

I think that when I am with people, family included, I feel like I am "on".    I feel guilty for wearing my pajamas after noon.   This time, being alone, I am not worried about it.  I have slept in my clothes.  I have worn my pajamas all day.  Nobody knows and I don't care.

Things I have done:   I've been to the coffee shop around the corner a couple of times.   I went to Safeway and bought some groceries.  On that same trip I went to a garden center and bought some plants.  I planted the plants.    I've done laundry.  I have fed the cat and cleaned the litter boxes.  I ate at the Vietnamese restaurant across the street.  That's it.

  I have taken a bunch of pictures.   I'll share them here eventually. 

And now, I am going to have a cup of coffee.

Friday, April 5, 2019

There is hope!

I know that being a mother is full of challenges.  Full of second guessing.   Wondering what you did wrong.   When any of my kids have struggles or suffers disappointment I feel so bad.   I want to make it all better.

When the kids were small, I could give a hug to a sad child and a kiss to any "boo boos" and make it all better. 

My daughter wrote this a while ago.   It was written in either 2001 or 2002.  Not sure which diagnosis I had, I have had so many in my life.

I remember questioning my parents and wondering why they did this or that.  Didn't they want to know the right way?  I felt at times that I had superior understanding of their situation and they were just ignorant.

As they are growing up, there have been times when my own kids have told me how wrong I am.  What I could do better.  How to do better.  This is, I guess, a part of becoming a mature adult.   

A parent's hope is that their children will start to appreciate them while they are still alive.    I know that they all love me (and their dad).   I know someday- hopefully  not for a long time- they will miss us when we are gone.   I hope that if I have grandchildren one day they hear stories about how silly their grandparents were, not how mean or stupid.

Everyone needs to be appreciated.  My daughter's writing here makes me feel that way.

Wednesday, April 3, 2019

Passing thought

As I was driving yesterday morning I saw a sight that captured my imagination somehow.

I saw a crane (bird) in flight, high up, descending as he was heading to some body of water unseen to me.

Visually crossing his path in the sky above me I saw an airplane majestically making it's ascent to an unknown (to me) destination, full of people going somewhere for reasons I will never know.

If I had not been driving I would have been tempted to try to capture the moment with my camera.