TRUTH #32

 It was true pre-corona, 

It will be true post-corona 

IT IS TRUE EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY

Age, Social Security And AP

 

So lengthy the list, so many concerns that the world
holds to worry over...

 

The massive (and unexplained) right whale die off.
Perhaps only 500 remain.

(perhaps if we'd not allowed them to be whaled into near non-existence
as a society of humans they'd not now be imperiled)

An article published eight hours ago by AP exclaiming Social Security
and Medicare are quote: 'shifiting money from younger generations to older ones'

Perhaps it should be mentioned in the article just how many thousands of
dollars each working adult was obliged to pay into these programs
And now, much like a deposit bank account seek only to access those funds.
Not to live as royalty.
But to live modestly.
To avoid eating cat food
(did you know elders are one of the higher poverty groups)?

 

I wish the article would have mentioned that a large (and larger) portion
of each elders' Social Security payments are
dedicated to paying numerous taxes.

*school taxes (benefiting the young not the old)
*taxes for WIC and CHP (benefiting the young, not the old)

 

Monies that were deducted (from every single lifelong paycheck)
returned via Soc Sec payments pay county taxes and state taxes

for roadways, snow clearing, improvements
libraries, fire and police

Services that benefit young and older adults.
Some that benefit younger adults more.
Road use for example as non-retirees are on the roads more than retired adults.
Much of what Soc Sec payees continue to support with their small checks
assist young adults, building their lives, heading to work
shaping and living their lives as those, now older, did.

 

I deeply wish AP would have mentioned that those
who have reached the milestone of Soc Sec and Medicare
are simply (as promised) accessing  those funds
  demanded of them from a lifetime of paychecks.

The fact this current retiring generation is large means that
there is more need. It also means there was (for decade upon decade)
more taken in, gathered, collected, stockpiled than any other generation.
The math should work. We, the graying, had no control over how
the funds were managed, handled, invested, borrowed or otherwise controlled.

Getting older, being older, should not be a cause for blame.

We, inching our way closer to retirement who have done as demanded
paid and paid and paid. With the agreement it would be there for us at a
predetermined age. It shocks and wearies me to find AP (or any group)
pointing to the aging as the villains, harming the younger, by now being old.

Easy tho we are to 'blame'

 

These are the mornings, the days when I gather my camera and my thoughts

and walk among the trees and fields. The sprouting crops, the nesting birds.
The blooms.
 

No accusations are called out. The young animals move more quickly than the old.
Young mother cows, goats and birds feed their young. The older graze, looking on
now in a different phase of life.
Neither thinks itself better or worse, more or less of value.
They contentedly co-exist.

I love these acres, this farm, these truths.
The cycles of life are understood here.

No anger. 

Just each life taking its turn.

 

Every living thing grows older
Grows old
Grows weaker

Needs a bit of help

 

In animal nature, the younger of the herd, doesn't begrudge
the elders their share of green spring grass
or their spot in the shade of the trees in July.
Nor their place in the barn in the winter.
The elders don't blame the young that they will die
or become freezer food for winter. Or food bartered for firewood or
a tractor repair or seed or manure
for next spring.
 

How tragic it will be if that can not be said of humans. If the young and old do not each support the place in life that we both currently occupy without resentment.
 

In Patagonia they suspect that one of the reasons the right wales are dying
is because recently the gulls have taken to pecking (and consuming) the backs

of the right whales (adults and calves) when they rise for air.

There is no known reason the gulls do so. It's a new behavior.

There is enough food, enough space for the whales and the gulls according to
the marine biologists who study this cruel new gull behavior.

There is a proposition to kill the gulls

to save the right whale mothers and calves.

  

I worry. I hope.
For the right whales.

For the gulls.
For all ages of humans.

 

Right whales rise to breath air.
Gulls scavenge.
 Humans live a full life and grow older every day.
With luck we all do what nature intends and live a full life.

 

We're all part of the intertwined cycle.
Part of the circle.
None escape age.

 

I wish AP, journalists, communities, humans in general
would talk of and write about the entire journey of life.
Of compassion. Of seeking solutions rather than pitting
gulls against whales, young against old(er).

If only there were discussions regarding the full and entire truth.
Elder social support is essential because everyone is (eventually)
going to be older and move slower. Sleep more. See and hear less clearly.
Hope (and need) to step away from work
 (opening up a job for someone younger). 

There is a quote that says we are only as good, as worthwhile
as we treat animals, those in need, those weak, those young and helpless,

sick and infirm. To that I would add also, those of age.

 

Advanced age is a doorway each of you reading has walked thru
or is heading towards...
There is no sidestepping it.

Points to  ponder as we have the opportunity to influence
our government, our representatives.
Points to ponder as choices and votes on Soc Security and Medicare

are put forward. Decisions made now that will touch each of us.

  ~~~

Now I'm heading out with my camera to take some pictures
and find some peace.

 

Thanks for reading....

 

Ain't it the truth?

  Again and again I am reminded

of one of the simple complexities

that is the key to living life well:

"Some luck lies
 in not getting
what you thought you wanted
but getting what you have,
which once you have got it
you may be smart enough to see
 is what you would have wanted
had you known". 

Garrison Keillor

OR

As the Rolling Stones lyrics wisely mention  :-)

'You can't always get what you want,
no, you can't always get what you want
but if you try sometimes
 you just might find,
you get what you need'

IT'S A GREAT LIFE (if you don't read forwards lol)

 There are days when I wonder why I am (not if I am lol) so neurotic...

The news did its part till I simply stopped watching it. No weather alert app either!

I'm decluttering (well, sort of - for me anyway). Love love LOVE my things, but
I'm far more discerning in regard to what stays and what's allowed in (well, mostly) :-)

Then the other day I discovered another culprit of anxiety - the 'warning' emails.
I know in my heart, mind and soul they are sent with the best of intentions - but
as I was weeding thru my emails I was amazed to see all the beware in my in-box! (I think I could hear Robbi the robot chanting 'danger Will Robinson, DANGER')***

Here are a few of my favorites as I was deleting my way thru them:
1) No lemon slices in my water/tea - worry over bacteria on the lemons
2) No sitting on any hotel bedspreads - when were they (ever) washed????
3) No handshaking with drivers - seems some pick nose when driving.
4) No touching the bottom of any purse! Could've sat on a public toilet floor.
5) No licking envelopes, and wipe all food cans! Rat poo in the glue & on cans.
6) No deodorants? (not going without, but now I worry, lol) possible carcinogen.
7) No longer do I chug a cold Coca Cola without thinking it removes toilet stains.
8) No more cling wrap in the microwave-causes seven kinds of cancer.
9) No using a public toilet - a big snake could be under the seat and bite my butt.
10) My favorite? If I don't tell at least 500,000 people all these things (via email forward) in 46.2 minutes a pigeon with diarrhea will hover over me at noon tomorrow afternoon and not only poo on me but also deposit the fleas from 120 alpachas on my body giving me Lyme disease.

Sigh......

THIS JUST IN! 

Keep your toothbrush in the kitchen because email says

that toilet water splashes six feet from the toilet.

 

~~~~

To be honest, some of what comes via email
in fact some of these above :-) are worth considering.
But for sure too much 'careful' can kill ya (from worry)
just as surely as not being careful will, lol

 

So tell me, what's you're favorite 'email-forwarded-be-careful' alert?

 

 

So, where did we leave off....?!?

Ah yes, I had wandered off (in the literal and figurative sense) for much needed
muddling, mulling and mucking my way thru a great deal of non-life-threatening

but heart wrenching angst, longing for a sign of some sort or another....

The back story?
Short and sweet (or as sweetly as I'm able right now, lol)
is that for a very long time when my paint brush was still and my heart was open

and amid the moments the farm hasn't been a whirlwind of calamity, lol
I've poured my heart and thoughts, observations and reactions into a manuscript of our story.

The story she and I share. Of how this old farm and I saved each other.

She and I and a cast of many, many others. It's a simple, funny, somewhat (hopefully) insightful tale of how life will sometimes go miserably wrong thru no fault of your own.  Events beyond your control will leave you helpless - short of starting over & beginning a whole new life from the ground up. The series of kindnesses, heartaches, victories, and coincidences that occurred again and again. Each a piece of the story with so many surprises along the way.

A tiny little book that I never (ever) intended to be 'significant' although it mattered greatly to me. I think that for years it has been my therapy (as much as the farm itself), my journal, and my solace. I hoped that perhaps my little book would encourage or cheer or amuse a handful of other like minded souls. I thought some out there would be interested in what it was like to rehab a hopeless old farm. And barn. And tractor. Or maybe there were others that, like me, had their life-plan destroyed and left in need of a rebuild because of unbidden changes. On my more self-critical days I thought maybe someone would decide to read it just because they liked its odd title or the still-only-an-idea-in-my-mind book cover lol.  Best of all I was on track for sending it out into the world to share with others.

But a new footnote was added to the story when a couple of weeks back when I learned that a verbal commitment and a confirmation of intent do not a reliable commitment make....

As it was explained to me: the current dynamic shift in market & sales from print publications in favor of e-publishing (which we currently do not offer) has forced us to re-evaluate all pending & intended but non-contractual commitments (which was, of course, very much within their rights).  So within steps of the finish line, amid typing out the last chapter and edits, the door was closed. And how foolish of me not to have forseen this possibility. How naive. Sad, frustrated and I admit, angry, I found myself left with nothing but the closing words:
"As we continue to feel your work holds merit we encourage you to pursue e-publishing your manuscript thru a suggested e-publisher or personally "

Ah yes, indeed.
Do I seek to re-sub to the 'suggested e-publisher' and begin that dance once again?
Or self publish?
And if only I had the vaguest notion or any experience of how to e-publishand then e-market, and then, and then... 

(well you see where all the pondering came to be necessary).

Many walks, much research, more walks and ok I confess a tiny little bit of
feeling sorry for myself with a side of feeling stupid for not requiring a firm commitment ensued for a couple of weeks. All the while wondering what was best, right up to and including scrap heaping the little book all-together. No option was off the table.

And then....

Then the almost funny 'sign' appeared one day in the old farmhouse laundry room.
The wind was WILD that day, from an odd direction. The curtain flapped and sailed in the relentless wind as tho it were intent on battering me. It was in the 90's and far to hot to close the window. I have no curtain retainer hook or pull back on this huge curtain as it seldom moves so I had no way to restrain it as it pummelled me! lol.  As I employed an 'alternate solution' I saw my signal, my sign.
And I took a picture to show you, even as my mind was saying
When the unexpected happens, the best solution lies in what you can do for yourself

So, as of this writing I have to once and for all decide if this tiny book of mine about a little farm in a little valley that has taught me so much about life and myself and has made me laugh and cry and grow is worthy of pursuing. Worthy of learning how to e-publish on my own, so I can hold the reins.  

The farm and I have learned together to do many MANY things I never thought I'd be able to do in my entire life. The question is, should e-pub-pursuing the little book of 'our story' be one more????

*Thank you SO much for each and every comment/email of encouragement and concern shared yesterday and
before. Your input, thoughts and caring have been (and are)  of more comfort and value than I could ever tell each of you!*

Intensity

My apology for having missed Monday Muse-Day this week

I won't lie. Recent days have been intense and unsettling.

Decisions to be sorted, approaches to be considered.
Actions, re-actions and emotions to be

evaluated, bridled and reined in, down to a functional gallop
(rearing and snorting render no progress down the trail).

  I wish there were 'signs'

direct, straight-forward indicators

advising me of the best course at such

times...

I'd love some indicator(s) to assist as I choose

 direction, action, words, tone, bonding, severing

facial expression, solutions(s), bribe, threat? (lol),

commitment, abandonment, encourage-discourage-ment.
Rally the forces, go it alone, stop, proceed, turn 180, turn 360,

scrap an idea, an entire project, scrap the naysayers, scrap some relationships,
confront, avoid be angry, annoyed? Be relieved, released.

Refocus? Redirect?

Re-Invent?

Responsibility? Resolution? Reconstitution? 

Revolution?
 (as in the personal variety)

You know, I need only a subtle sign from the universe...
That would be astoundingly helpful.

 Because there are times, there are situations,

there are dynamics vectored in such a way

that it is simply impossible to even guess the 

the correct choice - in both practical terms

and karmic terms...

A low-key straight-forward

sign from the universe.

That's what I need...

So, if I'm a bit absent from 'woman seeking' it's only due to the fact

 I'm out walking, pondering, considering, 'sign-seeking' ...
Amid the woods and fields, within the old barn timbers.
I'll seek a word with the sparrows and crows.

Excellent consultants, one and all....

Wish me luck

**nothing health related or dreadful afoot,
so to those who would worry don't.
Tis all life/work/interaction/decisions related.
Maddening but (happily) not threatening

(except to my sanity :-) **

It's Been One Of Those Days....

1) The toilet filler valve was leaking - replaced

2) New one fills so slow seasons change between tank fills

3)Replaced again with another new filler

4) See two

(no, I'm not kidding)

All set to paint and now, just as I have days free to paint

it's going to

rain

Sort of a twist your shorts day for certain

I'm going for a walk in the low pasture

amid views like this

(how they've survived this drought I know not)!

And whilst I walk
I'll re-re-re-re-remind myself of the difference

between real problems and simple knicker-twisting annoyances

The toilet will fill properly eventually

More paint will be put on, just later than  I  had planned

 I'm off to the low pasture now ~ taking my camera
(for more pics ~ would you like to see)?

PS *I'm now officially done whining, lol*

Thanks for listening :-)

The Exact Moment

The one positive remnant, found swept upon the beach following any fearsome storm in life or nature is the unmitigated joy that evolves in the simple absence of the hardship.

 Opposing  realities changing position.
Power shifting.

Dominance exchanging place. 

Frozen shaking hands warmed near the fire.
Out of control free fall replaced with choreographed rhythmic steps.

Logic returning, declaring victory over anxiety.

Happiness, years absent behind a door both bolted and nailed climbing thru old house windows.

The exact moment - and there always is one -  you realize the intense pain has stopped. Attempting to recall when you last walked the floors, unable to sleep, so deep was the angst. Realizing with surprise there is no such recent night. 

You understand, dimly, that you've actually survived the storm, the tumult, the pounding reef. The fractured bones of your heart are perhaps knitting together, scars ever to remain, yet healing.

I thought intensely of this one day, observing a building storm. Threatening and promising simultaneously the rain was forming amid a crushing drought on the farm.

I thought of my struggle that day, a day that rested randomly amid the years of the pain of departure and the hoped for yet not arrived contentment. Gazing out that ancient window where I 'oft lingered seeking solace  when I could scarcely breathe for the intensity of emotion that engulfed and threatened my soul.

I watched this storm unfold and continued pondering it all....

Watching that day, I cautiously wondered if perhaps within this old house
I'd found my storm-shore haven. My safety. Where I was meant to be...

(excerpt from the ever growing pages/chapters of my

  humble attempt at a first book. The sum of which chronicles

the entire story: the why, how & adventure of how I came to the farm,

to life in farm country. Of what forced, what sent me seeking, finding, repairing

and hesitantly loving this once decrepit old farm. The journey that began at a time

when most are 'sizing down'. The tiny little massive huge sad wonderful scary brave

story of how I lost my mind and my heart and set off on my lunatic, ill-advised escape)

Do Not Heed The "T"

Be Nice Or...

I was out in the barn today looking at this sign I hung on his old weathered walls the year the farm became part of me and I became part of the farm. Difficult days those were. Lots of 'feeling overwhelmed' by life. Disappointment. Waves of fear.

Many hours of wondering if I had actually lost my mind and just didn't grasp the fact yet. I found it difficult to be patient, almost impossible to feel kindly about anything.

I bought the sign. And in the crumbling leaning towering old barn up high on one of his walls I hung it on bent nail (I admit to wielding a hammer badly). You'll see the sign in the image below ~

I hung it for myself, as a navigation point for my newly forming world. I wanted to revive the part of my heart that believed in niceness, that believed in kindness. I wanted to step back, step away, separate myself from the past few years in which most of what I'd believed about work/career/humanity/life in general had been challenged at best and broken at worst. I wanted to again live my life just as the sign said:

"be nice"

("or go away")

In that moment, standing amid falling outbuildings, teetering barn, bedraggled farmhouse (with broken windows and bales of hay in the basement ~ yes, the basement) I realized something clearly. I realized that in buying this place, against all sense and caution I'd made a stand to replant my life. I'd decided to regain my soul, to begin life on a radically different path.

Exhausted  and fearful yet oddly calm in that moment. Taking one last glance at the sign I honestly understood that contrary to all logic, I was where I belonged. I sensed that perhaps I wouldn't have to "go away" because I somehow knew that within these tired old structures and amid these many rolling acres "nice" and my life were just waiting to be re-found....

On A Cool & Rainy Monday

On this cool and rainy Monday I treated myself
to catching up on blog reading (so enjoyed)
and editing some quasi-recent images to share.
Some hither and thither views from around
the 'old girl' that I hope you'll enjoy!

Spring = PROJECTS so there'll be much more
to share in the coming weeks (amid my advil
groans :-)

PS there are images of more clapboard scraping
pre-painting too ~ but they're far from lovely to
view lol so I spared you those!

Happy rain-filled-Monday from me to you....

It's a great life if you don't weaken

I bid thee farewell
sad news and bad news
offered up on platters
of airwave, digital text
(and the few remaining printed pages)

For past days many, weeks winding
and months marching
you have been a steady companion
while the old girl and I weathered
another winter more ~ together

Just yesterday, as May made her way
back to the farm again
I heard a knock upon the door

and found Spring waiting, full of hope
full of promise in spite of a winters' worth
of nay-saying-ramblers

Mother natures' May mentioned (in a warm wind whisper)
"it has always and ever will be so"
Sad news and bad news run rampant
yet one can (one must) set it aside

Set the hoplessness aside
when once again May comes calling
choose to dance

with Spring
and hope

come May

When on your porch-step
when at your door-step
May comes knocking
choose her....

Verse/text/images by IDF 2012