It seems my ability to create and write resembles the method in which most squirrels try and cross the road. In fits and starts. Turning round and heading back only to pivot and return.
I think of and write in my head lovely topics at 2am, only to have them escape except but for the tiny filaments of a memory. There was the one about how thankful I have been that my mom taught me things I considered boring and not worth my time when I was young. Things like how to use a sewing machine, or make a white sauce from scratch. How to know when the water was the right temperature that it would not kill the yeast but help it grow. How to kneed bread and look in a pantry and figure out a meal with odd stuff left over. Thankfully I listened at the time, I am sure she thought I did not.
There was a start of one about feeling like I was in captivity as it has been 43 days since I have been able to drive myself anywhere. How staying home IS the right thing to do, but knowing I can’t leave is hard. It is a day to celebrate when I manage to make it out to our patio off the dining room.
A few sentences on the healing ability of sunshine and a few more on friendship and being thankful.
Like I said, crazed squirrel trying to cross the street.
My mom taught me to climb. That probably sounds odd, I am not sure that most kids are taught that (ok I taught my kid because I thought it was a thing to do). Maybe they just figure it out. We lived on the side of a hill on eleven acres, most was fairly straight up. From the house there was some pastureland (which housed two cows for a small period of time) and then the tree line began. Once you hit the tree line, it got much steeper. My guess was she knew we were going to explore so she taught some guidelines. First lesson was: if you are lost, just head down, you will eventually hit the road and then the river, once you can see from there, you will know where you are. I kinda like that for life also, you get lost, stop and go back until you find where you need to be.
Her second lesson was the rule of three. When you climb, make sure you have three solid foot/hand holds before you move your fourth. This works for trees or hillsides. Make sure you have some sort of foundation before you move. I have used that a ton since I tore my patellar tendon. I have to think about how to stand, how to sit down, how to get in the car (and out). And it always goes back to that, have something steady to count on (preferably three) before you move.
Who knew the stuff she taught me as a child would be so valuable so many years later and in a different context.