P.S.

I love the middles of the nights, even more than most days.  I woke up with a knee pain and wound up watching The Electrifying Life of Louis Wain on Amazon Prime.  I'm only 15 minutes in, but had to stop and ask you all to stop whatever you are doing and see this wonderful whimsical movie, starring Claire Foy and Benedict Cumberbatch.

If the pandemic is ever really over and we go back to normal life, I can say I've spent hours of this solitude catching up on movie watching, I guess. But isn't it amazing how books and movies can transport you into other worlds?  This one takes you to the late 1800s in England, to the house of an eccentric young man and his quirky household of sisters.

Virginia Woolf and Bloomsbury

My friend gave me an annotated copy of Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf.  This week I took it off the top of the stack by my bed and started looking at all the photos and illustrations first, then began the novel I hadn't read since the 80s.   

That very night, I discovered Vita and Virginia on Netflix, the story of Virginia Woolf's friendship and love affair with Vita Sackville-West--a lavishly produced period piece that recreated Bloomsbury, London home to Leonard Woolf's publishing company and writers and artists of the early 20th century. 

Vita was a best-selling author of the time; Virginia's novels were less popular, but far more well known and studied after her death for her experimental style.  (Nothing much happens in the plots of her novels, they focus more on the interior lives of the main characters.) 

Virginia was temperamental, brilliant, intense--a genius. Vita was flamboyant, intent on seducing both women and men who fascinated her.  While Vita and her diplomat husband had two sons, the boys were more or less footnotes in the movie, presumably in her life as well.  Vita did not live at Bloomsbury but her wealthy mother--who supported her family--was extremely disapproving of her daughter's refusal to live by the norms of high society. 

Mrs. Dalloway was written in 1925; Virginia died by suicide in 1941.  Her final novel, Orlando, was her artistic endeavor to "get inside" the mind and psyche of Vita (who by then was no longer her lover but still a friend).  

The first time I heard a line by Virginia Woolf I was a college student at St. Mary's.  It was the line everybody knows even if they've never read her work: "Every woman should have money and a room of her own."

 

Happy Hanukkah and Happy Holidays to you all!

 From Luci and me....

Luci has a bone, but she prefers my "fur" lined bedroom shoe. She loves to shake it with all her might and then take off running with it, hoping I'll chase her to get it back--which I do.

I read an essay in the middle of the night by a writer about seriously editing her possessions.  Like most of us, she's approaching an age when getting rid of stuff is a kindness to those who may be left behind not having a clue what to do with it all.  

While I do that on a fairly regular basis, I realized that I could happily shop for Christmas and birthday presents in my own house.  What was once new to me could be new for a while to someone else, then passed on.  

In one of May Sarton's journals, she wrote (at sixty): "I used to be acquisitive, now I'm not."  I'm not quite there yet, but what I do acquire has to replace something sold or given away. 

In a way, every house is a museum, art show, or stage--an exhibit that reflects the pleasures of the people who live in it.  Mine is a small stage.  Certain objects dance on the stage for a while and then they bow and I clap, but I leave them onstage as reminders: of a trip to New England, a trip to Taos, a trip to Italy 20 years ago.  Each is precious to me, but will my souvenirs  be precious to people who have their own travels to remember, their own taste to display? 

I have photographs, postcards, bowls, jewelry, and fabric I bought in France years ago but never made anything out of.   Each object gave me pleasure and delight.  

When I do travel, or used to, I stop in little shops and galleries and usually purchase something to capture the spirit of the trip. Here's a doll I bought in the mountains in October: 

The writer of the essay discovered in her purging that she had 25 dish towels and she reduced the number to ten.  The drawer opened and closed more easily.  She felt lighter when she added 15 dish towels to the boxes of never-used silver and crystal in the basement for give-away. 

On the uphill side of life, we acquire new things.  We're imagining the life we'll have and what we'll need for that imaginary stage.  On the downhill side, we realize that the imagined life and the real life never entirely merged for one reason or another and we have to decide what to do with the parts that no longer fit.

I used to imagine giving dinner parties for one thing-- because that's what people do. Some call it "entertaining," though that word always conjures the image of dancing on a table and singing a ditty.  I have provided occasional meals for my family over the years, but I have never hosted a dinner party.  

It's taken me a while to figure out that I'm just not that person.  I'd rather just sit on a porch and have a drink and a cookie with one person at a time.  

Today I am visiting with friends on the phone and watching Luci sit by the tree.  I got myself a turkey dinner from Bill Miller's and we are happy in our quiet little space. 

The tree

 

This is the first time in decades that I've put up a Christmas tree, but here we go.  Luci and I got a live 4 foot tree and tonight decorated it with tiny white lights and a few small ornaments. 

She got up out of deep sleep to watch me string the lights.  I moved the dining table to another room and am now calling this front room the Christmas Tree Room.  It turned out so pretty I'm thinking I may get a Papa Bear tree to go with this baby one. 

Call The Midwife

I've been watching "Call The Midwife" for ten years, and rarely does an episode end with making me cry a little.  At times, it may border just a tad on schmaltzy, but I love the genuine goodness of the characters as they tackle hard issues of the 60s and 70s--abortion, homosexuality, birth control, Down's syndrome, birth defects caused by Thalidomide, and extreme poverty.  Each episode features compassionate people doing all they can to make their patch of earth a better place.  

Tonight's finale for season 10 was followed by an hour-long retrospective and celebration of ten years.  The actors, director, writer, and special effects team took viewers behind the scenes and made me want to start back over with Season 1.

As a passport member of  PBS, you can watch Masterpiece dramas, news, documentaries, independent films,  and travel shows--either as they are airing or earlier.  If you want to see previous seasons no longer on the PBS site, they're all now available with a Masterpiece Subscription through Amazon Prime. 

Progress Report

This is a typical day for me almost six months after knee surgery.  (For some receivers of new knees, it's better than this; for some not as good.)

I can do pretty much anything I want--walk Luci a couple of miles most days, shop, take care of stuff in the house.  But due to persistent pain about the same times every day, my days feel shorter.  

Today started with a walk and doing all my physical therapy exercised prescribed by my new therapist--the one I wish I'd started with months ago.  I go there twice a week and she stretches out my legs to relieve nerve pain.  "You have some angry nerves," she said. 

Then Luci and I went to Tuesday Morning and the UPS store and Whole Foods.  At 11:00 the pain flared and we came home so I could take a pain pill and a nap--during which I'm watching News of the World with Tom Hanks.  

Most of the hard work needed I pay for--like having the porch ceiling painted and the outside "laundry room" painted for the delivery of a new washer and dryer--which are humming along quietly.

It's hard to plan a day ahead because I never know how I'll feel the next day.  If I sleep, I can do most things in the morning and again late afternoon.  If I don't sleep all night, I plan on a two or three hour phone-off in the middle of the day to rest.

I've adopted Carlene's adage: do only one big thing a day.  Tomorrow our writing group online is having a party, so I'll keep the morning easy.  

Almost everyone I know has something going on right now, so we compare notes on ailments and healing strategies.  

For the first time in ages, Nathan and Elena spent the night here this week--which was wonderful.  Will and Bonnie came home from a meeting late and slept in the casita.  I made a simple dinner.  They will be going to Washington for Thanksgiving to see Bonnie's exhibit at the Smithsonian--along with her dad who's never been to Washington before and who's going to be so proud of his Mexican history being celebrated there. 

I have a fabulous family and friends and dog--and overall, good health--so I'm not complaining.  Just giving you all a progress report.  

The 10th of November, 2021

I got an email at 7:00 asking me to log my odometer reading on an app for a "Drive Safe and Save" program with State Farm.  I was having a bit of trouble figuring out how to log in, so I called them.

The screen said: 70700 miles and 70 degrees. 

Avis, the woman who answered was interested in that quirky fact of all sevens and zeroes; she didn't roll her eyes.

Once, at a Valero Station, I said to the clerk, "There are nine cars out here and they are all white."  She rolled her eyes.

I notice quirky patterns like that.  Do you?  If you do, please let me know.  

It's been a week too busy to write.  I'm seeing a new physical therapist twice a week and doing my two sets of exercises every day.  Replacing washer and dryer.  Waiting for various men to do jobs I can't do myself.  Assembling a new storage cabinet to perk up the eyesore of an outdoor laundry room.  Getting Edward to come paint the screened porch after washing away the mold I'm seeing.  Stuff like that. 

I bought a new washer and dryer and have been fixing up my outdoor laundry room before they are delivered, including putting a storage cabinet together that has at least 70 parts--after getting rid of the old ones and waiting for the new ones.   Stuff like that. 

And now it's time for my grocery store excursion.  "It's time.  Hurry up!"she's saying. 

Tuesday Night November 2nd

 

Just got home from a wonderful We Three Retreat in the North Georgia mountains--Carlene and Day and I. 

Day rented a perfect mountain cabin out in various local eateries.  I wished we could have stayed a few more days, but Day had to get back to work and I had to get back and retrieve Luci from Pritchett camp.  The colors had passed their peak by a week or two but were still pretty. Being with the two of them was priceless!

Here we are, Day and I, buying each other souvenirs at a great little shop in Ellijay.