Time and Tide Wait for No (Wo)man

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If forty is the new thirty, fifty the new forty, sixty the new fifty and so on – when do you ever get a chance to relax?  To age gracefully with peace and dignity?

If the above are rallying cries for holding on to one’s youthful spirit and enthusiasm - great.  But if they’re merely in regard to appearance?  Then I find them oppressive, time consuming and ridiculous.

I’ve decided to embrace aging.  Not to the extent of finding each wrinkle endearing and letting everyone know its origin (“…and this one was created when I accidently dropped my second son over a cliff…”) but in the sense of withdrawing from the battle, the laying down of weapons.  Which isn’t particularly difficult to do since I’ve never been fully engaged in the battle.  My only weapon has been hair dye.*  However, I’ve always been very aware of that not-so-subtle pressure to RETAIN YOUR YOUTHFUL LOOKS.  I’ve finally had enough.  I’M NOT LISTENING ANYMORE.

I don’t count basic moisturizer a weapon, I don’t wear make-up (skin sensitivity) and I’ve never had “work” done.  Truly.  Unless you count wart removal cosmetic surgery.  Which I don’t and nor should you.  A wart on the bottom of your foot really, really hurts – but I digress…

As for those five lbs. that keep coming and going?  Well, they’re welcome to stay.  I’m not fighting them any more.  Those determined little buggers can take over the areas they’ve been coveting for years – my belly and hips.  I don’t care.  Mi casa es su casa.

If my sisters and certain friends are reading this, I promise I will not let myself go completely.  I will maintain certain standards and you’ll still be okay being seen with me in public.  I just might look like your mother rather than a contemporary.  And I’ll be wearing an always-in-fashion, ageless, contented and happy smile. 

 an unretouched photo depicting a DIY wrinkle remover gesture by a crazed woman

*Confession – a bit of vanity remains - I think I’ll give up the hair dye next summer – have my head shorn - retreat to the cottage and see what appears…

Celebrate

Prompted by a reminder of how far I’ve come these past few years, I checked out my blog post for June 18, 2007.  Well, hot damn, I have come very far indeed!  And I must say, I admire the spirit of that 2007 Beth.  Despite some rough times (and, of course, many good times as well) I think I still retain that spirit and sense of wonder.  Not every day, mind you, but more than enough to keep life interesting and my place in it a joy.

My birthday is coming soon.  On that day I think I’ll celebrate the person I’ve become.  I like her.  Not only is she happy, she makes me happy just thinking about her.  ;) 

Instead of having the requisite number of candles on my cake (enough to risk causing a fire) perhaps I’ll request just five – one for each of these past years of change and growth.  Admittedly, some of the growth has been in my girth but what the hell.  Chocolate has been an essential contributor to my sense of happiness.

When I blow out those candles, I’m going to wish for more happiness.  I know you’re supposed to keep what you wish for a secret or it won’t come true but in this case it can come true – because I’m the one who makes it happen.  Always with the help of family and friends – of course. 

(WHAT A FIND ON GOOGLE IMAGES!  A birthday cake with five candles for “ELISABETH.”  Spelt with an “s.”)

photo credit: http://sew-blessed.blogspot.ca/2007/12/five-candles.html

A Pat on the Back

Andre Dubus III’s book title “House of Sand and Fog” came to mind as to where I’ve been this past while – although the “book” I’ve been inhabiting would be more aptly titled, “House of Pain and Fog” by Beth Stewart’s Back.

I do not like having to take prescription pain medication.

And I don’t to do it very often.  But when none of my usual exercises/techniques work I do resort to DRUGS.  They make me feel foggy, groggy and frustrated (as well as grumpy due to the previous three) - none of which are conducive to any creative thinking or writing – which includes blogging.  Fortunately, these extended bouts are rare and this particular one is done, over, gone… 

I am not whining or doing a “poor me” routine.  This is my reality - has been since I was nineteen.  Like others who live with chronic pain, I have adapted to it - and if I may say so, very well.  If you saw me, I doubt you would ever know.  Unless, of course, you have a very keen eye and then you might notice me getting a little antsy after sitting for a long period of time.  Other than occasionally referring to my “wonky” back on my blog, it’s not something I dwell on because it just is….  It’s part of who and what I am – it’s my “normal.”  I have blue eyes; I have a bad back. 

This post is an exception because:

a) I wanted to explain my brief absence and

b) I also wanted to say this:

If you have a chronic pain condition, you have my sympathy and understanding.  If you suffer from occasional episodes of pain due to whatever, ditto.

But if neither of the above applies to you, I’m asking you to take ten seconds (yes, just ten seconds, right now) to pause and be aware of your body.  Take note of the absence of pain.  Appreciate it.  Be grateful for it.  Do not take it for granted.  And, damn it - enjoy it!  (An excessive use of the word “it” but, hey, so be it…)

If there’s a positive aspect to my condition, it’s this – that on my no-pain days, I am very, very much aware of its absence and so appreciate such a wonderful state of being.  And, yeah, I also feel a bit of envy (and am somewhat in awe) of those who experience this state every day.

End of mini-lecture, admonition, sermon-on-the-mount, etc., etc.

Just so you know – that image above?  This latest bout was not caused by carrying a heavy book…  ;)

photo credit: google images

Leap of Faith

Talking with one of my sons the other day, I managed to make a conversational leap from point A to point E with nary a pause in between.  This was such a huge leap, even I noticed.  He didn’t bat an eye.  Which I found rather disconcerting.  Are my kids resigned to my spouting apparent nonsense or do they actually follow me?  Either option is disturbing – so much so that I questioned him.

“Did you follow that?”

“Nope.”

“Did it bother you?”

“Not really.”

Hmm…  Option # 1 – he’s resigned.  Feeling defensive (and a little foolish) I carefully explained how I got from A to E.

He nodded thoughtfully.  “That’s good, Mom.  As long as you can to make the association between each point, you’re okay.”

Somewhat reassuring.  He (they?) think I’m okay.

Personally, I think my occasional conversational leaps are due to a brain that functions at warp speed – which is a sign of mental prowess.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  If you can’t follow me?  Make your own leap – one of faith – and assume I know where I’m going.  I always get there – although sometimes I have to backtrack for the sake of others.

Speaking of which, weather permitting, I’m going away for a few days.  You may notice a lack of witty and intelligent comments on your blogs.  Or not.  I’ll catch up upon my return.

photo credit: google images (with some not-so-well-done changes by me…)

Lost and Found

Just started reading Falling Together by Marisa de los Santos and I’m already finding treasures to jot down.  One of the many joys of reading – discovering new ways of looking at the world and/or at words themselves. 

“It was the first time Pen had ever seen Will lose his temper, although “lose his temper” never seemed quite the right way of describing it.  What got lost was everything else, all the things that made Will himself: empathy and patience and decency, his sense of humor, his sense of justice, everything fine and good deserting him in one ugly rush.”

And that’s what it’s really like, isn’t it?  Our temper emerges – we don’t lose it.  It’s always there, lurking below the surface.  And then suddenly (or not so suddenly) we’re no longer in control of our anger, our fury.  It’s the other parts of ourselves – the good parts – that are temporarily submerged, buried by anger and frustration.  And how quickly that eruption can occur – which is a bit scary.  If you are really, really mad, it can be difficult to even recognize yourself amidst the rage.  You’re no longer the self you take pride in being.

For most of us, the emergence of this ugly side of our nature is followed by regret and remorse.  Or not.  Sometimes a good temper tantrum can be cathartic.  I had two mini-temper tantrums yesterday.  After each one, my better self (the self I adore!) returned and with it, my sense of humour.  I was able to laugh at myself.  Thank God.  It must be awful to be perpetually angry at the world or yourself.  Worse than awful – tragic.

I’m going to make a concerted effort not to “lose my temper” today.  It could happen.  I’m going Christmas shopping.  And while I always start off in a good mood, this seasonal venture often brings out the worst in people - the parking lot rage, the line-ups, the grumbling... 

It’s a slippery slope, my friends.  How easily it can turn into Ho! Ho! Hell!

Perhaps if I keep a smile plastered on my face?

When you're smiling

When you're smiling

The whole world smiles with you…

photo credit: google images

Wow

Germany Finds 55 Billion Euro After Accountancy Error
October 29, 2011, 7:55 am EDT

BERLIN (Reuters) - Germany is 55.5 billion euros ($78.7 billion) richer than it thought due to an accountancy error at the bad bank of nationalized mortgage lender Hypo Real Estate (HRE), the finance ministry said.

As someone who has difficulty grasping the concept of trillions of dollars (an amount being tossed about these days) I don’t possess a particularly keen understanding of international monetary affairs.  However, I think I’m safe in assuming this was indeed a very bad accounting error.  Would a $78.7 billion error be the equivalent of my being out by $7.87 in my banking?  Or .78?  Or .07?

Europe's largest economy now expects its ratio of debt to gross domestic product to be 81.1 percent for 2011, 2.6 percentage points less than previously forecast, it said.

This sort of makes sense to me.

The HRE-linked bad bank FMS Wertmanagement was set up after HRE was nationalized in 2009, so that HRE could transfer the worst non-performing assets to an off-balance sheet bank guaranteed by the German state.

I have trouble comprehending this kind of financial maneuvering.  Don’t attempt to explain it to me.

The government nonetheless welcomed the news which pointed to a further reduction of Germany's debt mountain, which remains above the European Union's Maastricht requirement for 60 percent of GDP.

I sort of get this but I’m ticked off that the European Union’s financial woes and (vain?) attempts to solve them affect my paltry RRSP investments.

However, the opposition Social Democrats (SPD) expressed astonishment at the extent of the accountancy error, for which they see the government as responsible.
"This is not a sum that the Swabian housewife hides in a biscuit tin and forgets," said SPD parliamentary leader Thomas Oppermann. "To overlook such a sum is completely irresponsible."

I wholeheartedly agree.  But I never forget about money I hide in a biscuit tin.

FMS Wertmanagement was created when toxic loans and securities with a face value of 173 billion euros were transferred from HRE in October last year, creating Germany's largest bad bank. ($1 = 0.705 Euros)

I understand the words “bad bank.”

Although I have – up until now – trusted Canadian banks, I’m wondering if I should withdraw my money and hide it.  (Not in a biscuit tin.)  But can you pay bills in cash these days?

Good Times

"I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, “If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.” 
~ Kurt Vonnegut


Thank you, Kurt.  (Love this man.)

I’ve learned to do this – even if it’s simply enjoying coffee with a friend, a hug or moments of craziness and laughter.  It makes the tough times bearable - and the good ones even better.

Enjoy your weekend!

Of Sticks and Stones...

“The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.”
~Virginia Woolf

“And sometimes, their words the poison we unwittingly swallow.”
~E. Stewart


With barely perceptible movement and actions, I’m dismantling the cage, dismissing the glances and refusing to swallow that which I find unpalatable.

Progress is slow. Sometimes I lose ground.

While change is not always easy at this stage in one’s life, it is possible – and the rewards are worth the struggle.

Hell, I should have done this years ago.

Word to the wise – being nice and accommodating is not all it’s cracked up to be.

To quote Theodore Roosevelt, you can always, "Speak softly and carry a big stick…”

Or in my case, a small to medium sized one. (Old habits die hard.)

Burn, Baby, Burn...

Have been out of action with a fever. No, not Olympic* fever – although that too is infectious – but my very own personal heat source.

I’d forgotten what it’s like to be downed by a fever – the strange delirious dreams, your perception of familiar objects and rooms distorted, the sense of being distant from your body, time doing wacky things with your mind – all this due to the body’s own mechanism for fighting some invasive virus or bacteria.

Feeling so off-kilter sort of reminds me of the days I once… Hmm, never mind that bit of irrelevant history.

Today I’m at 98.6 – or close enough. The psychedelic glasses are off and it’s back to reality. My own special version.

Please pass the brownies. (Just kidding!)



*At long last, the first Gold medal for Canada as an Olympic host country! It’s been many, many years. Congratulations and bless you, Alexandre Bilodeau.

Wise Words?

I consider this man a literary genius.

So, I’m thinking perhaps I should do a little more farting around and a lot less of taking life so seriously.

It’s worth a shot. ;)


image credit: http://www.timemachinego.com/linkmachinego/

Ready (?), Set, Go...

Cautiously testing the waters of the blogging pool because I may be tempting fate or the gods or whatever by returning now. I suspect something (else) is going to happen which shall yank me right back out of the water…

One of the things prompting my return is a conversation I had with a friend last week. He told me I was angry.

“Angry? Sad, frustrated and overwhelmed, yes, but angry? I don’t think so.”

“You’re angry, “ he insisted. “I can hear it in your voice and see it in your eyes.”

And with that revelation, I realized it was time to take back control of my life – or as much of it as I possibly can right now. It’s so easy to lose sight of your own needs when caught up in the needs and lives of others.

On a lighter note – some possible future posts?

Beth the Oblivious gets hit-on at the grocery store, how to forgive your hairdresser for giving you a little Dutch boy hair-cut, why expressing road rage at a four-way stop is not a good idea…

We’ll see what I can do.

P.S. I’ve noted both the absence of or decrease in posting by others in the blogging world. Perhaps it’s not April but January that is the cruelest month??



photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/awfulsara/36602519/

Being Me

Life’s been somewhat off-kilter here the past while. Thus, I’ve been a little off-kilter. Knowing why my behaviour is slightly wacky (more so than usual) goes a long way to preserving my sanity. So does retaining the ability to laugh at myself.

Two examples of my off-kilterdom – and two only. I’ve also managed to retain some pride.

While in a store the other day, I heard a cell phone ringing and my first thought was, “Hey, someone has the same ringtone as mine.”

It was mine.

Finally got around to some Christmas decorating and while setting up the manger/crèche, I actually got mad at Joseph for repeatedly falling over. He was momentarily at risk of being tossed from the scene.

Get a grip, Beth…he’s a figurine, he can’t help it and it’s Joseph!

I figure as long as I’m capable of recognizing the humour in these sort of incidents, I’m still okay. I laughed with the person who’d called me and I apologised to Joseph - with a smile.

And I do have plans (which include alcohol, deep breaths, some chocolate marshmallow Santas and regaining more control of my life) to get back on-kilter. (In-kilter?)

Kilter is a funny word. So is off-kilter. I looked them up. Kilter means “in working order.” Off-kilter means “a bit askew.”

I am a bit askew. That makes me laugh, too.

The Party's Over...

I recently hosted a party which had to be the shortest one on record. It lasted for all of 10 minutes and there was only one person in attendance. Me.

It was a god-damned PITY PARTY held in honour of my disintegrating body. I figure at the rate things are falling apart, it’s just a matter of years before I’ll need a total overhaul. Would that such a thing existed.

What prompted this not-so-festive occasion? I’m waiting for the test results regarding my bruised and sore left foot. Tentative diagnosis? Stress fracture. The disconcerting thing about such a fracture is that it can happen without you being aware of it. Which I wasn’t. If it is. This adds insult to injury.

While a stress fracture is a common occurrence among runners, I most definitely did not do it pounding the pavement. These days, only some kind of emergency prompting an adrenalin rush gets me moving at any speed beyond a brisk walking pace.

The pity party was short-lived in part because I refuse to feel sorry for myself. I really, really hate doing that. Also, acknowledging that my nagging ailments are minor compared to those of others’ also put an end to my “whaa…whaa…” moment. With a shake of my head and a kick in the pants (hard to do on your own) the party was over. Finis.

While I can still walk, talk, dance (albeit with a bit of a gimpy foot) and laugh, I am OKAY. Better than okay. I am kick-ass (see above) fine.


P.S. But I also have a paper cut on my right middle finger. Hurts something fierce.

Hello Canada

What the hell???

“50 Most Beautiful Canadians” and I’m not included in the list??!!

Who the heck’s in charge of this magazine? What pissant screwed up the assignment?

Had this glaring omission not occurred and they’d asked me the question, “When do you feel most beautiful?” I’d actually have been hard-pressed to come up with an answer. Unlike Shania, it’s not when I get out of the tub – unless the mirrors are somewhat fogged up. Nor would I say after a few drinks because I don’t drink often enough and I do feel beautiful more frequently than that. When I’m all dressed up? Not really – don’t do that often enough either.

Maybe on those occasions when I’m smiling, laughing, happy, content and totally unselfconscious of myself? Does that make sense? How can I feel beautiful when not conscious of myself? Ah, never mind...

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, a state of mind, etc., etc. Or, in Stendhal’s words, “Beauty is the promise of happiness.” I think his words take into account just about everything in the world we perceive as beautiful.


And, hey, to be honest, I didn’t even buy the magazine – just looked at the cover.

I MAY VERY WELL BE ON THAT LIST!

(they just never got around to asking me the question…)

Humbling Moment

On Saturday I stood in line at a check-out counter for ten minutes. It took that long for the woman ahead of me to convince the cashier that the 10% off coupon she possessed was valid for the single item she was purchasing.

The item? A bottle of aspirin. Cost? $4.77. Savings? 47 cents.

I was not at all impatient. I was frustrated and upset for the woman’s sake. I was also humbled.

Among the items I purchased? Not one thing could be deemed absolutely essential.

To put an end to the haggling and help her out, I wanted to offer to buy the aspirin for her but I don't think the gesture would have been appreciated.

And when I wondered why she didn’t save that coupon for a larger order, it occurred to me that perhaps all she could afford to buy was the aspirin.

I was humbled yet again.

I take far too much for granted.

“…feeling constantly poised on the brink of speaking a sentence she doesn’t know the words to.”






Perhaps not constantly, but at times.

Enjoy the weekend. I’m hoping for sunshine. It’s pouring rain right now.

Late Fragment

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

Raymond Carver


I came across this beautiful poem just last night – and it had a profound effect as to how I view the world right now.

I do feel myself beloved on earth. I needn’t wait until the end of my life to look back and realize this. I’m aware of it now – and have always been aware of it.

During this crazy economic time – with its accompanying fears, sense of panic and loss – take a moment to remind yourself what is important in life.

If you measure your life in terms of possessions and the accumulation of wealth, then, yes, you may have suffered (or will suffer) a terrible loss. You are vulnerable.

If you measure your life in terms of love given, received and felt (if you can call yourself beloved on earth) then stock market fluctuations and a recession and/or depression cannot touch that precious sense of security. You may still experience a frightening financial loss but you will not endure that loss on your own.

I grew up in a family that knew its share of loss and that had very little money for any sort of luxuries. Perhaps I will return to that sort of life. And that’s okay. I was happy and loved. I always will be.

Caution - Amateur Photographer

I’ve been inspired by both Sherry and Bee regarding the subject of perspective – captured either via the camera lens or by making a conscious effort to see your own world/life from a different point of view.

I decided to combine the camera angle (uh-oh – Beth with a camera…) with things I see in my every day life. I carefully observed both the objects in my home and their placement and questioned myself as to why they’re there, how long they’ve been there and why the hell I still have some of them around. Would these objects and their location appear odd to other people? And would I care if they did?

Using the camera to capture the images served to emphasize either the incongruity or beauty of some of these objects. (Keep in mind - beauty is in the eye of the beholder!)

This exercise taught me certain things – how I see the world (specifically, my home) and what is precious to me. It also taught me that apparently I’m quite capable of becoming oblivious to certain objects over time and/or I don’t like change. The latter observation is not a news flash but a reminder as to how an aversion to change affects my living space. One cannot prevent change from occurring in life but one can attempt to control it in certain environments.

I’m just showing a few samples. Trust me, there were plenty more. Turns out my home is a crazy place! Perhaps I’ll post some others another time – as on ongoing reminder to view the world (and my life) from a new perspective. Doing so really does open your mind – and your heart. It also encourages you to do some housecleaning.



On a shelf by the kitchen window – a teapot, an emergency candle, an egg poacher and a little wooden turtle that fell off a key chain one of my sons gave me. And, yes, what appears to be a tiny particle of brown dirt or a dead bug. Each item (except for the dirt) was placed here with no conscious thought and no decorating sense. And they remain as is – although I did get rid of that bit of dirt.



My childhood copy of Winnie-the-Pooh resting on a table in the dining room. I placed the book there after writing a post about it ages ago. And left it there because it gives me pleasure to see it every day. And that’s a good enough reason for me for keeping such an oddity in the dining room.



This image of (wooden) tulips on the fireplace mantle may not strike you as odd but I was once told they should be removed throughout the winter months – displayed only “in season.” Why? I am able to see real tulips in season. It’s during the winter months I crave a reminder of spring and some colour. Nor can I afford to constantly buy fresh tulips in the off-season. And why would I? These ones make me happy.


And there you have it – a few decorating idiosyncrasies from my home which I have discovered reflect some of my own idiosyncrasies. So be it!