FB shut me down…

I still don’t understand why, but “suspicious activity” had been detected, so they said.  Okay.  They wanted me to send them a picture of myself, so they could determine if, indeed, the me that was sending them the picture was the Real me.  The Actual Person me was immediately offended, then concerned, so I took the problem to google and discovered that this is not an uncommon situation and it was safe to send them the picture.  But what’s up with sending them a picture?  Don’t they already have all my pictures?  Couldn’t I just pick one of me even if I weren’t me?   How does that verify that I’m really me?  I look at recent pictures and hardly recognize myself, so where does Mr. Bigshot Facebook get off thinking he knows me so well.  Shouldn’t they ask me piercing questions:  What is the name of your first elementary school?  What was your grandmother’s maiden name?   What is the most surprising thing you can tell us about yourself?   How could I surprise them?  They — who the hell is They? — track everything I do on the internet.  How, or why, would they suspect that I am not me?  Who else could I be?  I am decidedly me.  And that old woman in the picture is not the proof you are looking for.

I checked my driver’s license.  There is a picture of me, taken 12 years ago, wearing my nurse scrubs and dark red lipstick, long hair, few wrinkles.  That’s not me, though it was me.  I turned to my brand-spankin-new Medicare card.  No picture, but the name:  Christina J Casey.  I was so bummed when I got my card and saw that I was now going to be, until I fly away from this terrestrial globe, Christina J.   (I was named after my mother (Ruby Christina), a default measure after Dad wanted to name me Ruby.  I don’t know why they never called me Christy, or Tina, or just Christina, but they didn’t.  I was The Bug to my Dad and Jo to everyone else.)  Perhaps that’s suspicious?

This all happened 4 days after I had started my hiatus from blogging, determined to retreat and reset.  I got to thinking it must be a sign that I needed to verify for myself that I am still me.

I began a a spell of study with teachers from the Sounds True Meditation and Mindfulness Reatreat:  Alice Walker, Eckhart Tolle, Pema Chodron, and Thich Nhat Hanh.  I listened to some of Oprah’s Sunday interviews with Maya Angelou.  I reviewed my Ayurveda lessons and did some Dosha and Chakra Work.   When the snow and ice came, I watched the birds at the feeders and soaked up the warm cozy.  I started 2 book challenges, one fiction, the other non and read 2 from each list so far.  I dragged out my book of 40’s standards and played Misty and Cry Me a River.

I got back on the treadmill–but only once!!!  Now That proves that I’m really me.

I did eventually send the folks at fb a picture of me, and a week after that, I was bombarded with a barrage of “come back and see what you’ve missed” emails and notifications.  I really hadn’t missed a thing.

I am returning to blogging, though, refreshed! ready!  But I still wonder who I am…

Peace

 

 

The Perfunctory New Year, New You Post

The aroma of hoppin’ john — my stock new-year-day lucky food–is filling the air, warming us on this frigid (10degrees), but sunshiny First Day of 2018.

I’m a little skittish about making Resolutions…  I’ve done it before, but I’m just not a Resolute person.  I have only a passing understanding of Determination or what on earth a Firm Decision would be.  Same way with Goals…  The very word implies Effort and there is a whiff of competition that has never appealed to me.

I reject Bucket List, because I do not have a terminal diagnosis, and I sincerely hope to have done Everything before I get the diagnosis…

But just like the traditional lucky food, and kissing at midnight, I usually make a list on New Year Day.  The List was aimed at Self-Improvement, being healthy, changing my habits… The usual stop smoking, stop drinking, lose weight, join a group, take a class…I Would Become a Better Person!!!  January was always full of hope…  By February, I would be making excuses, and March always saw me in the line of shame to d/c my gym membership.

Why did I spend so much time criticizing myself, always falling short of my expectations.  I set myself up to fail, then beat myself up, feeling undisciplined, even lazy!?  Some of those habits changed, but never because I wrote it down on New Year Day.  Time flew in and changed me.  It works much better that way.

At the ripe old age of 64, I see the Year Ahead much differently.  I look at the Year as an Adventure, Each Day as a New Experience, Every moment present and aware.  So I’ll call it my Adventure List?  My Experience List?  My Learning List?  My Here’s What I Want to Do in 2018 List?

Whatever you want to call it, here it is…
(in no particular order and not necessarily complete)

1. Enjoy Each Moment, no judging

2.  Write

3.  Travel

4.  Spend Time with Family

5.  Learn New Music

6.  Read

7.  Garden

8.  Walk/Hike

9.  Spruce up the House

Asking a lot of myself, aren’t I?  I hope you feel free from self-criticism, too.   You don’t always need to Change yourself, trying to please or fit in.  You Will Be Changed, believe me;  that’s what Life is.  Don’t be so determined to be something.  Open yourself to Just Be.  Enjoy the Journey.
Peace

It happens every year…

It’s Husband’s birthday today–63 years old.  I have done so much gushing about him on this blog that you already know that I am rather fond of him.

Happy Birthday, Michael Ray Casey!  And Many More!

To my Dear and Loving Husband

A Poem by Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov’d by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompetence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay.
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let’s so persever
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

Peace

(I am on my way to the chiropractor…is it my back or my hip?  We will soon know.  Way to celebrate, huh?)

 

Retirement, so far…

It’s been nearly 6 months since hubby’s last day at the highway, officially 12/16/16.  I was in NYC on the actual party day, but he was properly fete’d by all the young guys to whom he has been a mentor, as well as a whole quarry of old codgers who had worked with him in the past.  When I returned to Sonnystone on the 19th, our new life began.

At first, it was kind of like going away to college–we were free to stay up all night and/or to sleep all morning.  It was the holiday season, so we decked the halls and all that.  After the New Year, he dove right in and remodeled the laundry room.  It was a mild winter, so we spent part of February blazing a new path and making space for gnomes in our woods.   We spent a week on Dauphin Island in March.  By the time I solo’d to NYC again in April, he had nearly completed the new garden beds and fences.  After planting, we took a break to camp in the Smokies, and ever since we have been continuing to spruce up for the summer season.   We babysit the grandkids frequently and he has done some work over at the Jrs. house.  His usual mowing, wood-chopping, and fixing jobs have kept him busy and he claims that except for the machinery, he doesn’t miss work at all.

As for me, I am delighted to have him here to pal around with, but…  I write less, I read less, and I have given up watching what I want on TV.    My blogs are quickly-put-together pictures and commentary, not much more.  I haven’t sat down and spent a day working on Any project like I used to.  Though we’ve settled into a routine (we go to bed early and get up early), I haven’t yet been able to incorporate any Me time into it yet.  I still clean the house and cook the meals, all our traditional gender-based duties, and his constant gotta-be-doing-something has rubbed off and I am outside attracting chiggers and skeeters more than in my whole life.  The other morning, for the first time, I kinda wished he would go to work so I could just be alone.  Just one day.

By the time the pensions and annuities and social security kicked in, I had stressed over the insurance premiums (less than we paid at the state, thank-you, President Obama) and started feverishly throwing money into savings.  By May it was worked out, but the picture is not as rosy as I had hoped.   It’s doubtful we can afford to be snowbirds this year, but that’s due to the fact that we are taking 2 (yes, two) trips to WDW, one in October with the Jrs. and in January or March with the newyorkers.   Overall, though, the worry was unnecessary, as usual.  He wasn’t worried at all…

This morning I am up early to finish packing, grabbing an alone minute or two.  We are driving up to Indy and flying from there to LaGuardia.  Eliza is graduating from kindergarten at St. Joseph and they make a big deal of it.  We went for Emma’s, so we’re keeping it even, and I’m going to wear the same hat.  (I made a wonderful friend at Emma’s kindergarten party: Brownie Severine.  I doubt I’ll get so lucky this trip.)   The girls are doing their Irish dancing on Saturday, and we’ll head home Sunday morning.  Together.

So far, So good…

Peace

Adventures with with O & S ….

We went to the zoo to celebrate Olivia’s first day of summer vacation…

Afterward, we came back to Sonnystone and played…It’s nice to have PawPaw around to play clue and help with fairy wings…

Samantha spent a while working on her flying…

Missing the essential Pixie Dust, she didn’t quite lift off, but she persisted…I like that in a person…

 

Peace

 

Memorial Day, 2017

Busy week, this last one, full of people I love.  Between babysitting, elder-sitting, and good, old friends, I haven’t had time to do much more than maintenance.  I’m way behind on my reading challenge because I didn’t have the challenge book with me at Cades Cove and started reading another, so now I’m finishing up two.

Many confuse Memorial Day with Veterans Day.  The former is for those who have made the ultimate sacrifice and lost their lives for their country in military service, the latter for all those who served.  No one in my mom or dad’s family has died in combat, but for the millions of lives cut short by war, it is good to take time to pause and reflect with prayers or meditations of remembrance and thanksgiving for all we, the living, have in this wonderful country.

I remember when we called this Decoration Day and we would go with my great-grandmother in Southern Illinois to walk around dozens (it seemed) of cemeteries littered with Maynes and Kinkades.  Casey and I made our way through most of the old cemeteries at one time or another in the last 20 years, but the weather isn’t always co-operative.   This year would have given us a beautiful day to re-enact the trip, but we chose to stay put, doing mostly nothing.

Casey’s working on putting up our little pool and the week ahead looks sunny.  We are leaving next week, flying to NYC for Eliza’s kindergarten graduation/party and both girls will be dancing Irish at their school’s

Ceili  –  ˈkālē/

a social event at which there is Scottish or Irish folk music and singing, traditional dancing, and storytelling.

Both PawPaw and I are going, and this will be the first time he has seen the girls dance in person, so we are All excited.

Till then, we’ll be laying around the shack, watching the garden grow.  Well, I will. I can’t keep track of Casey, but he’ll be doing something helpful, I’m sure.

Peace

 

 

Finally, February

February is short because we just can’t take another day of it.  Just starting the month makes me chomp at the bit for March and Spring.  However…there were a Lot of Great people born in February and each of them needs proper celebrating; the super bowl halftime show is this weekend; and Mardi gras makes a late appearance on the 28th.  Today has been a pretty slow start, though…Dullsville.

We babysat Samantha yesterday…she wanted nothing to do with letting me take a picture…

Around sunset I headed over to UE for an interfaith rally to show support for our Muslim brothers and sisters.  There is no anger at these rallies, there is hope.  We don’t chant hateful sayings, we pray together.  We sing songs like Everybody get Together.  The pastor, the rabbi, and the imam speak of our sacred duty to take care of each other.  We smile at each other.  Away from the arguments and rants on the tv and social media, it was so comforting to stand quietly and pray that Love will Overcome fear and hate.

Peace