I picked a batch of bananas last week Their type is called botlers. They are more like a plantain than a banana. Everyone on my street has a big bunch from my batch. They’re good if you cook them in a frying pan with a little oil. My Teflon pan wasn’t very good for this and someone recommended a cast iron skillet. So I went out and got one.
It is so good, I don’t think I will ever use my old non-stick pans any more. Tonight I had eggs and turkey sausage for dinner, cooked in the cast iron.
Went diving today, rough with a lot of current, but still good.
Now its back to work Monday, and report for jury duty again
This morning I woke up and got up before the alarm. I was having stressful sleep, not in that it was stressful, but in that I couldn’t steer my thoughts in the direction I wanted to steer them. Among other things, I kept thinking about this woman with green hair. I knew where she was, and I had to get up to go find her.
But when I woke up, I didn’t know where to find her. I couldn’t remember. Keep an eye out for her, will you?
I notice lately that there always seems to be a group of half a dozen or so chickens in my back yard. Digging huge pits. I don’t know what made them decide to start hanging out back there but I wish I knew a way to get rid of them. (If I left the dogs out, I’d probably be rid of the cats too and probably end up with a worse hole digging problem;)
Yesterday I was backing up my photos. I found a poem I wrote to my wife years ago on my backup drive:
Nov 2015
The poem won’t win any awards, but it has meaning.
When I read it, I felt a shock. And I felt a welling of sadness . I remember feeling lonely and missing her, looking at her while she watched tv, messaging on her phone. If we were in bed, I wasn’t allowed to touch her, because it would wake her, and herr “sleep was sacred”. I used to put my hand close enough to feel her body heat without actually touching her.
The emotion upon reading that poem was like a yellow orb ready to explode, maybe into something huge like a sun or giant flower opening.
I felt this emotion, but before I could observe it, my automatic suppression systems kicked in and killed it.
I saw sadness as a little yellow ball of yellow, begin to expand, possibly into something huge, but then shrank and blinked out of existence.
I tell people I don’t have emotion. People tell me I do, but repressed. My marriage counselor and my meditation coach both say this same thing.
The second I read that poem, my mouth dropped open and for a brief moment felt so much, and immediately saw the whole thing automatically crushed into nothingness before I could even take a look.
This is a vivid example of (one of) my insanity(ies) and problems with relationships.
It was a rough sleep last night but I’m feeling good now. Thanks to the tools I have been given in recovery and meditation.
Sunday we went diving at Cobalt Coast. It was quite good. Cobalt Coast had been closed and used for staff, and some quarantine during covid and hasn’t been dived much in the past two years. Colors and fish life seemed much better than other, frequently dived places.
its Monday, spell check wanted to put money, of which I could use more.
last night I went out to dinner at Tukka with some friends visiting from Virginia. I took the above picture of the full moon rising.
Moonset this morning.
This morning, I took the above shot of the moon going down. Amazing, huh?
People always think it’s the sun in the day and the moon at night, actually the moon is up in the day half the month and up in the night the other half. Last night started the night moon half.
I am glad its Friday. Yardwork weekend and diving are my hopes for the weekend.
Have a very good day and weekend. I wish you the best!
Last evening I went to a private meditation session with my teacher from the meditation workshop I took a month and a half ago. The teacher learned in an hour what it took a year of counseling to reveal.
It was very interesting and beneficial and painful. I had a hard time sitting cross legged for an hour and a half!
The weeks crawl but the months fly. Have a wonderful day! The weekend is almost here!
Yesterday was one year studying Spanish on Duolingo. Every day for a year!
congrats to me!
We had spectacular thunder and lightning last night, and some good rain. Loud loud thunder like cannon. Bright wide streaks of lightning, bright and close.
I’ve been asked many times and questioned myself over the years. (I’ve been in and out of counseling since the late 60s / early 70s when I got my first F on a school report card.)
I have felt joy exactly twice. On e when my wife appeared in view the day we got married and the second when she gave me a particular birthday present that surprised and delighted me beyond expectation. (Travlin’ Tim)
I’ve been in good moods plenty, more lately, but meditations and counselors frequently ask me to “think back to a time when I felt joy.”
its one of those words that have never been in my vocabulary and when someone asks for it, I have to find out what it is before I can tell you I don’t have it, or if I do.
To me joy is an extreme word. An extreme rarity on the far edge of emotion. The most extreme happiness.
This isn’t a negative post. Just a statement of fact. When I am asked to remember joy on order to recover from the loss of my wife, it’s kind of counterproductive that she’s the source of the medicine to help me recover.
