weekending

first pick jam

not much better than that on a weekend

two lies

i've been listening to myself carefully

looking for patterns and such.

listening to the words that play in my head

and i've caught onto the fact that i am telling myself or at least belieiving at least two lies.

goodness knows, there could be millions more

but i am in enough trouble with these two so i am going to stop looking for a while.

lie number 1

"i can't afford wellness"

lie number 2

"speaking truthfully about how you feel is complaining"

interesting...

i am fascinated by myself and the crazy stuff that goes on in my head against my better judgement but obviously these things happen and now that i have caught myself

i have to figure out what to do next.

oh, and see that pie?

it lied too...

or at least the sign posted next to it did.

looking all delicious and boasting organic and wholesome.

 and maybe even ethically made.

worst pie ever.

it was a whisper

i asked for a blanket today.

this is progress.

remember?

interestingly,

it came out as a whisper

even though my other exchanges had been at "normal" tone

my nurse had to ask me twice

and so,

i asked for a blanket today

twice!

quietly

quietly tiptoeing through this week

i am weary friends.

weary of this particular story of illness

quietly wondering what i need to do next, if anything.

there feels like there isn't much left of me

but then there is always enough.

i am learning to trust that.

but i miss my old life.

i really really do.

exhale

focus on the can do, not the can not

following up from this post

i can make a delicious kale and bacon quiche

i can stay connected with my dear daughter every day

i can water the plants in the window sill and change the flowers in the vases

i can smile at strangers

i can notice the beauty around me anywhere i might be

i can send mail

i can create herbal teas and bath salts

i can collect eggs from the chickens every morning

i can take photographs

i can be a listening ear

i can read and hear my story woven into theirs

i can create a beautiful garden basket

i can deliver flowers to what used to be strangers and are now friends

i can exchange love conversations with babies

i can welcome whoever ends up sleeping on my couch when i come downstairs in the morning

i can continue to be hopeful

i can continue to be vulnerable and truthful about my story

the asking for help dilemma

i adore white furniture, white walls, white dishes, white daisies, white bedding.

white.

the way the light bounces off of it and the fresh clean feeling it can evoke.

the problem is i can not keep it clean.

(and this is only one of the reasons i don't wear white clothing)

it takes me two days to wash and hang dry one of my couch's slip cover and cushions and being we have two identical couches, it's a 4 day ordeal.

today being the end of that four day experience

 I was thrilled to notice that the first couch I cleaned earlier this week already is dirty.

yup.

it's a never ending battle if I choose to engage in it and most often I don't but being I am trying so hard to find my house, my happy place here at home, the noticing of the already dirty couch has sent me to sit in the sun and do nothing but breath deeply for the rest of the day.

the living room is upended, one of the slip covers tore when I was putting it back on, the kitten has shred kleenex everywhere, there is a random assortment of dimes and pennies and if you stopped by today you would think,

wow..that's a lived in living room...or...this girl needs help.

)where did her organizational skills go? i know she used to have them. i saw them once"

which leads me to a question.

is it okay to ask for help cleaning and organizing my house in exchange for

well, nothing but the privilidge of being in my messy presence.

imagine, if i invited a few of my friends over, promised to feed them and we just tackled it and got it done. is that okay?

i'm not good at this asking for help thing, and i'm not sure what is too much and what is just right and what is normal...maybe there are women all over getting together and cleaning up each other's disaster areas..and i'm missing out

or maybe,

this is one of those way to vulnerable, don't come see my messy drawer kind of situations and i should keep my mouth shut.

"Turning out drawers is so personal that you wouldn't want any but a good friend to see what's in there."

what would you do?

 would you ask for help? enlist the husband and children

or

  just do it yourself and stop thinking about it, blogging about it and avoiding it?