The Summer that never felt like summer.

Farewell to the summer season. I picked my last bouquet from my garden. I watched my trees bare their souls and release their leaves to protect them from winter.  But, wait...where did the summer go?
We had air conditioning in the entire house installed before summer. What a marvel! Coolness and dryness every room in the house. No need to take long air conditioned drives in my car for quick cool downs. The local market will miss me meandering up and down their aisles to suck in their cool air. The cool air is so wonderful, or is it?

The old war wounds in my back have been calling out their war songs this year. This summer, I went to a pain clinic and had three shots in my back to stop the pain. I worried about my back. I did less, well, I did almost nothing in the yard. I spend a total of one hour in the gardens. I had no choice. The pain had to stop and  I became the mother hen to the little vertebrates in my back.
Being protective feels old, old like the little ladies who drive their cars at top speeds of 25 miles per hour.

Old. A term I never thought I would use to describe the adventurous women that I was. I don't mind the grey hairs, I actually like them.

But giving up my gardens, that hurts. Being outside with my plants, birds, and bugs surrounding me and being part of their world. That was wonderful. That is now gone.
I gave up walking a few years ago. I tried new shoes, new walks, but, those vertebrates are very demanding. I now walk occasionally  with my walking sticks. The sticks keep me strong and straight. That is good. But, now my toes, ankles, and arches yell out in pain.
I did not pick fresh fruit at the local farm. I miss the taste of warm fruit melting in my mouth.
I took joy in snacking inside the house. Why did it come to this?

Yankee Resilience

re·sil·ience

rəˈzilyəns/

1. 1.

   the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.

   
   
2. 
   
3. 
   
4. 

   
   

   Winter  has come to my hometown and it stays and stays, until it is no longer welcome. We wrap ourselves into layer upon layer of clothes until we are invisible. We dream of spring days, and  the warm air on our bare legs and feet.

It all is a cycle. Winter to Spring to Summer and onto Fall. Again, again and again. 

           

           I like to call it Yankee Resilience. Short and Sweet.

• We fall on the ice, we get up and take another step. 
• We weed our gardens in the rain. 
• We don't follow fashion trends. 
• We were clothes until they disintegrate  or go into the rag basket. 
• We celebrate holidays with hand made cards. 
• We regift the same present to the same people as a joke.
• Are hands get dirty and we don't wear nail polish.
• We embrace our dear friends.
• We help out neighbors.
• We smile at strangers.
• We love beans and brown bread.
• We love lobster almost as much as we love our odd sayings, and accents.
• We are into old things; such as tools, houses, graves, and our clothes.
• We cherish each season, love the quirks of the season, remember the bugs, heat and frogs of the spring and summer. We remember the ice storms or the winter of over 100 inches of snow.
• We embrace hurricanes. 
• We love Yankee swaps, crazy sock contests, and locally brewed beers.

1. 
   

Living on the fringe of light and dark.

Saturday morning, coffee, egg on toast and the background noise of the washer/dryer.
We are expecting another snow storm tomorrow. So far in March, we have had three NorthEastern Storms, which flooded parts of Newburyport, left most of Essex County without electricity, and brought down branches and trees all over.
I am tired of this weather. I am tired of being a good yankee, and smiling at the storms. I no longer fill up the bathtub with water (we are on a well), no longer run to the crowded supermarkets to stock up with necessities of life, and rent videos from the town library.
I sit and quietly read and occasionally photograph the snow, the trees and still live portraits of my desk, possessions, and even my feet.
I nap when the sounds of the wind grind into my head. I watch trees limbs sway and dance to the winds. Sometimes, I will draw with my colored pencils. Sometimes, I just sit and think.
I like the isolation. The self focus is extremely amusing.

I see the promises of spring all around me that spring is near. I so want to have flowers blooming outside my windows. Feeling the soft breeze coming into the house, after the stuffy house has been shut up, closed up all winter.
I want to go barefoot in the yard.  I need to dig into my gardens. I need to become strong again.
I need to laugh out loud again.