Dormancy
This is a crazy life, this retirement thing. With no deadlines, I can procrastinate almost forever. And of course the holiday season makes a giant pile of soft stuff to dive into and sleep.
As I celebrate neither Jesus nor Shopping, I generally try to ignore Christmas now that there's no ritual family gathering to pull us together whether we like it or not. The gifting neurosis still haunts me. But my younger son and I got together for spaghetti and my mostly homemade meat sauce and a movie, Sweeney Todd.
Sweeney Todd is a mad musical gore-fest of vengeance, squirting blood, and bad hair. We loved it.
I'm still watching hair grow and wishing it grew faster. The dog gets better and better as I stuff him with medications wrapped in liverwurst and bathe him in sulfur-laden shampoo way more often than any dog could possibly wish for. The black "elephant skin" gradually thins as hairs grow in and fingers rub flakes off. Stubborn stuff. I've been doing this about six weeks now. Enough already!
I signed up for a full weekend yoga thing the first weekend in January, and the first day nearly killed me. Two 2-hour asana classes in a row after two weeks with hardly any exercise (in honor of the holidays) is intensely self destructive. The very first class consisted of all the hardest poses. After a brief warm-up, we (actually, they) flipped into handstands, followed by all the warrior poses and several varieties of headstand. The next class was lovely and normal, but I was too wrecked to fully appreciate it. I left in a daze, then missed the Saturday morning classes, showing up after noon. I took a hand-balancing class which was a lot easier than it sounds, and a chanting workshop that sent me into the ozone. I skipped the big musical event that evening and didn't even get out of bed Sunday. It was a learning experience: I can only take so much yoga.
Meanwhile, I am totally hooked on Lost, the TV series. My son T kept recommending it but wasn't sure I'd like it due to the supernatural element. I get a kick out of the fact that the island is presented as a weird and magical place where "everything happens for a reason." Since most people seem to think the normal world is like that (so much so that I want to scream every time I hear it said), I am pleased that Lost assumes the opposite, like me. Therefore, I can cheerfully accept the movie's spooky premise and enjoy the complex mix of characters, good writing, good acting, and reliably frequent life-altering shocking discoveries. Anything is possible. What will they think of next!?!?
Meanwhile, I'm getting a lot of sleep and still not quite enough exercise.
As I celebrate neither Jesus nor Shopping, I generally try to ignore Christmas now that there's no ritual family gathering to pull us together whether we like it or not. The gifting neurosis still haunts me. But my younger son and I got together for spaghetti and my mostly homemade meat sauce and a movie, Sweeney Todd.
Sweeney Todd is a mad musical gore-fest of vengeance, squirting blood, and bad hair. We loved it.
I'm still watching hair grow and wishing it grew faster. The dog gets better and better as I stuff him with medications wrapped in liverwurst and bathe him in sulfur-laden shampoo way more often than any dog could possibly wish for. The black "elephant skin" gradually thins as hairs grow in and fingers rub flakes off. Stubborn stuff. I've been doing this about six weeks now. Enough already!
I signed up for a full weekend yoga thing the first weekend in January, and the first day nearly killed me. Two 2-hour asana classes in a row after two weeks with hardly any exercise (in honor of the holidays) is intensely self destructive. The very first class consisted of all the hardest poses. After a brief warm-up, we (actually, they) flipped into handstands, followed by all the warrior poses and several varieties of headstand. The next class was lovely and normal, but I was too wrecked to fully appreciate it. I left in a daze, then missed the Saturday morning classes, showing up after noon. I took a hand-balancing class which was a lot easier than it sounds, and a chanting workshop that sent me into the ozone. I skipped the big musical event that evening and didn't even get out of bed Sunday. It was a learning experience: I can only take so much yoga.
Meanwhile, I am totally hooked on Lost, the TV series. My son T kept recommending it but wasn't sure I'd like it due to the supernatural element. I get a kick out of the fact that the island is presented as a weird and magical place where "everything happens for a reason." Since most people seem to think the normal world is like that (so much so that I want to scream every time I hear it said), I am pleased that Lost assumes the opposite, like me. Therefore, I can cheerfully accept the movie's spooky premise and enjoy the complex mix of characters, good writing, good acting, and reliably frequent life-altering shocking discoveries. Anything is possible. What will they think of next!?!?
Meanwhile, I'm getting a lot of sleep and still not quite enough exercise.
posted by Cranky Ol' Lady at 1:32 AM
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