Manhattan, Very Early

Last year I got to take my kids to New York for a few days. Our return flight was early one morning. I love this shot of my son – up way before his body clock would usually allow – taking in his last views of Manhattan before we departed. We were almost the only ones up…

Goodbye, New York.

Goodbye, New York.

Another crack-o’-dawn morning on the trip, my daughter and I walked out to the East River to watch the sun rise. That’s my daughter huddled on the side of the photo – it was colder than we had anticipated.

OK, we saw the sunrise, now let's go back to bed.

OK, we saw the sunrise, now let’s go back to bed.

(Posted for the latest Weekly Photo Challenge.)

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States of Mind

Today’s Daily Prompt requests a post opposite to what I usually make. Thus and voila, a cartoon.

I often imagine that I have one of these signs on my forehead.

Slide1(I don’t  manage to imagine that I look like Garbo, however.)

Garbo photograph by Cecil Beaton.

Inspiration From a Life Well Lived

Elaine Morgan, dead at age 92.

Elaine Morgan, dead at age 92.

Recently, an internet pal’s grandmother passed away – a woman I had never met nor heard of. In reading her obituary, I discovered that she had been an extraordinary individual, and learning about her life filled me with optimism.

Our world is full of wonderful people, some famous, some well-known, and most invisible except to those whose lives they directly enrich and improve. I won’t ever know about most of them, but they are out there, and it bolsters me to know that.

Tapping My Inner Hermit

The view from my cave.

The current internal view from my cave.

I have always liked being alone, and I am good at it. The one aspect of being a parent that was tough on me was all those years with so little alone time. These last few weeks, recuperating from surgery, with nowhere to go and nothing required of me except laying around, I have had more alone time than I have had in decades. I went through a bad patch at the start of the second week – OMG this is interminable –  but then I settled in. I’m reading a lot, writing a lot, and just — hanging out: petting the cats, patting the dog, pondering the hummingbirds in the garden, walking at sunrise and sunset. Now it’s jarring when the phone rings or a text arrives or a friend visits, as I spiral ever deeper into solitude.

Somehow I’ve managed to avoid most of my usual worrying and planning, which has allowed me to feel downright peaceful. I probably have to credit post-op lassitude for much of this accomplishment (and initially, heavy meds), although I have occasionally practiced some of the techniques I’ve recently learned at Al-Anon.

Having no required thoughts or agenda has been fertile as well as productive for my new novel. The ideas are flowing from all directions, at all times. I’d forgotten what that was like!

All in all, my post-op phase has been the ultimate in staycations. Tune in next week, when I phase back into work, set the alarm clock, and resume driving, to see how long the peace lasts.

Image courtesy of …