My day of recuperation

The afternoon twilight is fascinating today. Daylight falling more quickly than I can turn the lights on inside to counteract the outcome of it. Light flurries swirling, embedding my little queendom in white.

This fall has been and is a strenuous one. No catastrophes for which I am very grateful and I shouldn’t really complain, but still one thing after the other. Health issues outside my usual domains, practical problems, little things turning into never endings projects (like getting new glasses, those of you mature enough for progressivs might know what I am talking about) and so on.

This last week in particular has been especially exhausting with two acute visits to the doctors and one more acute health contact. Oh how I have been wishing for a calm and uneventful day. Just one. For recuperation.

And it happened! Yesterday I watched a cute little nothing-film from 1989 with Steve Martin, Parenthood. While sipping my ginger tea doing my nails. A perfect tired Saturday afternoon.

But what was even more relaxing was that I could DO things. Strangely enough I had energy. And my body wasn’t at it’s worst, it was actually pretty good.

Since late summer Mohammed has been one of my home care anchors. While he was cleaning the house, doing the laundry and roasting my granola I was able to attend to some things downstairs. This was possible since I wasn’t alone. Mohammed was supervising my whereabouts.

I fixed my printer, clogged up as usual as I am rarely using it. Finally I got it to work. For the time being. But satisfying for now. And it was so nice being in my beautiful office feeling like someone having an office.

In my yellow kitchen there is a yellow sofa chair in the corner. It’s actually a recliner, everyone’s favorite spot. Next to it a sideboard with a shelf inunder piled up with old magazines and God knows what.

This used to be my favorite spot too. Stretched out in the chair covered in a wool blanket and music from the kitchen speakers. Drinking my tea. Reading architectural- and home interior magazines. Planning and dreaming.

I’ve been looking at that big stack for years now wanting to do something about it. But I can’t because it’s out of my reach. To low down. And as it isn’t high priority it’s not on my list for things I need to ask people to do for me.

But yesterday Mohammed pulled out a stool for me. Meanwhile he was roasting the granola I sat next to the sideboard and went through the pile. Music on. The granola smelling cardamom and cinnamon. Nice company. I browsed the magazines starting at 2003. Memories. And plans that didn’t happen. But also dreams fulfilled.

I cleaned out most of the magazines and today I am looking at the sideboard with great satisfaction and a feeling of accomplishment. It’s finally taken care of and I did it myself!

And the icing on the cake yesterday was when I was able to sit at the piano for a while figuring out some difficult passages in a couple of those Christmas songs my choir is rehearsing right now. It was years and years since my body allowed me to sit upright pushing the keys on a real instrument instead of lying on my couch settling for a dissatisfying keyboard on the Ipad. And I couldn’t have done it today.

I love spending time downstairs, because it’s so rare. It gives me a feeling of owning my home. Or, to be drastic, having a life, if you will. 

And it’s interesting how “doing things” can be relaxing. Sitting at my desk filing papers, I enjoy it so much! No thinking, no figuring out, no handling, no acting, no finding the difficult solutions, no coping, just doing it. And the satisfaction of getting it done, having it done.

I wished for a day of recuperation, and I got one. A good, stable, relaxing and uneventful day. Thank you.