It was also very Parkinson's Law. I caretake the tea garden every week and it usually takes an hour or so. This week though, I'm on midterm break with extra time to spare, and the task took all the time I had. OTOH, I did such a thorough clean that it'll only need touch ups as the teaching weeks get busier in the second half of the semester.
Anyway--afterwards, I made myself some tea and made sure I enjoyed the results of a morning of hard work for at least 15 minutes with Scout and Huck in there.
Then I had 15 minute-slots for all the rest of the stuff I wanted to do: 15 minutes for yoga, 15 minutes for dinner prep, 15 minutes for a soak, and so on... So it goes. But a mindful 15 minutes can do the trick. Even for exercise apparently--I heard it referred to as "exercise snacks" on the radio.
Pic: Huck showing up for a closeup with Scout right behind.
My first day walking on the MSU campus since... since the mass shooting two weeks ago. Their 'spirit rock' has been turned into an impromptu shrine--flowers and offerings everywhere.
Two weeks is a long time to forgo the walk along the river I love so much. Instead of telling myself I would be safe, I had to tell myself that really, it's not like any place in the U.S. safe--to make myself go back.
Sirens still provoke a very visceral response no matter where I happen to be--grocery store, piercing studio, home... I imagine this sort of thing takes a while to heal.
Thankfully, it was an uneventful walk down one of my favorite paths. Big A was joking about us doing this walk when we're into our triple digits. (Yes, I didn't do this by myself, I had significant emotional support.)
Pic: MSU 'spirit rock' now with a tent and seating.
And I tidied up my jewelry drawer and rearranged all my rings. I always think I want to be the bohemian 'ring lady' with long, witchy hair; but in reality I only wear one at a time. I do like looking at them though.
I'll have to finish up grading and all that in a few hours, but it was so nice to be so expansive in taking care of myself today.
Pic: My ring collection (and some random lint).
The sermon today (and all February) at UU was about love. But sadly, I spent at least ten minutes fuming in an unlovely, unloving way because I heard the person sitting behind us say to my 15-year-old Nu (masked and dressed in all-black and a hoodie, as always) that if they had shown up like this three years ago, people would be calling the police and they might have been arrested. I think this person was trying to be funny, but it was a weird thing to say to teenager who was there with their very brown mother. I turned around at the end of the service to offer my perspective with "love and respect," but then realized that the person who'd said that to Nu was very old and very stooped and probably a first-time visitor (no name badge, just the "My name is" sticker) so I ended up not saying anything.
But WTF.
Anytime people mention hoodies as an indication of menace or wrongdoing, it reminds me of what a big deal people made of it when Trayvon Martin was hunted and murdered. And Twitter just reminded me that today is the 11th anniversary of his death. Now I'm mad all over again.
Pic: Baker Woods in the afternoon sunshine.
It has been a year. Some days it feels like yesterday, some days it feels like a distant dream of love. There have been tears every day...
