LET'S GET PHYSICAL! PHYSICAL!

          Wow! Almost a month since I graced these pages 

with my precious words!  What HAVE I been doing? 

Well, once again I was facing physical therapy sessions
 to strengthen my legs

and my "CORE" (very important)

to help with my walking.

Now, without bragging, I have logged much time

 in physical therapy over the years, 

with arthritis plaguing my knees and my hips

 and my shoulders and my back.

If there was a Frequent Flyer Program for Physical Therapy,

I would be pumping iron (well, weakly pushing iron)

 around the planet!

ANYWAY, this winter, I started out like this, 

because sitting is my favorite position in life:

I was HORRIFIED at my first time to the

Physical Rehab Center

when I saw these machines--

like some MEDIEVAL TORTURE CHAMBER!

(I know I saw the original rack from the

Spanish Inquisition by the back wall)

But with constant encouragement from my cute Physical Therapist:

I moved on from this:

I was soon thrilled to be there every day...

.....that I was soon doing this:

And just couldn't stop--LOVE those machines now:

Even found myself streeeeeetching around the house:

AND I'VE ONLY BEEN GOING 

TO THIS ROUND OF THERAPY

FOR A FEW WEEKS!!!

"GONNA DANCE!"

Has it really been almost a month since my last blog (sigh).  Well, as the trees and flowers start blooming, so will I venture out from my winter lethargy.  These lyrics popped into my head as I sat here with my morning Monet mug of coffee:
                                                               

                                                        Gonna dance, gonna fly, 

I'll take a chance riding high,

Before my number's up, 

I'm gonna fill my cup,

I'm gonna live, live, live, until I die!

I've been sitting around too long on my winter ass, and it's time to "dance" and "fly".....well, maybe just walk around a bit...celebrate the tulips and blossoming trees...the sunshine and this beautiful Mother's Day spread out before me.

What an incredible gift, to be a mother and grandmother, to spill over with love and joy in my world of hugs and laughter...to hear Rosie say "Nonny", to hear Bella trill "Beautiful Grandma" (I coached her)...to see Jake growing tall and handsome.

To have my wonderful daughter as my roommate going on a third amazing year together...To see my boys as husbands and fathers, strong and funny and so "there" for their lovely wives and children...living their lives with humor and intelligence and spirit.

What a gift is this chance to "live, live, live, until I die"!

WORD CONSTIPATION

          Writer's Block--Need a Laxative!

          I really looked at the books 

on my headboard bookcase 

by my bed this morning, 

and my eyes fell upon a small book

 entitled A Writer's Workshop.

Hmmmm......a tiny sign for the day?  

        The foreword of the book contained the following quote, by Honore de Balzac.  The Workshop writer slyly mentioned Balzac had still "managed to churn out some ninety novels in his lifetime." (And without a computer or delete key or SpellCheck!)

"...And the writer is a looker-on

at his talent's suicide..." (Balzac)

          Most days I have a small goal to write, usually in this blog, 

to keep from being "blocked up" by unwritten words.

          I once earned a bit (a small bit) of money with freelance writing, but I didn't stay with it...just not a "sure thing", so I lost impetus.  If I was blocked up on those many non-writing days, I usually ignored the bloated sensation.

          

          But my state of retirement presents me with the dubious gift of unscheduled time...my trusty laptop beckons.  Even as I find it difficult to walk around with arthritis tugging tiresomely at my back, I certainly find sitting still comfortable.  So writing is physically fetching.....just mentally annoying.

          If you don't write anything, 

then you don't write badly....

or stupidly.  

And yet I cannot ignore the sweet feeling 

of having written.

          I have been guided--and goaded--

by feelings and intuition all my life.

 (Sometimes even a good thing.) 

          And so, dear little blog, 

you are my conduit for words, 

for some attempts at verbal expression.....

small little steps....
blop
                  blop....

Sweet Relief !

(Did this entire crappy metaphor 

really start with"Writers Block"?)

Aren't you glad we have reached "the end"?

(snicker)

BIBBIDI BOBBIDI BOO!

          After years of coming to grips with the fact 

that I am not living in a fairy tale. 

*That after the prince takes you to the castle, 

you will have to do his laundry

 and clean said castle... 

*That the Coach needs a regular oil change

 and breaks down in subzero weather...

*That it's hard to find any good footmen these days, 

and why would I need one anyway... 

*That "happily ever after" cannot be sustained forever.

***That I have to be MY OWN FAIRY GODMOTHER!!!!

Really not the worst revelation--

I've had years to get used to this idea.

Probably started when I would get to the end of a 

"My Life Will Be Perfect When......." moment

And discover that yes, I had that 

college degree/job/husband/home/kids/retirement...

BUT still not "Perfect", Not "Ever After"

(But really still very, very nice.)

And I didn't have to wait around for that Fairy Godmother 

To appear and grant all these outlandish wishes,

BECAUSE I WAS MY OWN FAIRY GODMOTHER!

As Glinda The Good Witch told Dorothy 

at the end of her travels down that yellow brick road

(and WHY couldn't she have told her this at the beginning?):

"You had the power all along, my dear."

I have always held the wand, had the power, 

to grant my own wishes,

to dream and then go after that dream,

To be happy with the ever after

That is RIGHT NOW",

to be oh-so-grateful for that "right now".

Because that is the true power... 

That knowing you are holding the wand

And you can wave it as wildly and strongly as you want.

That you have a nice orthepedic pair of Ruby Slippers,

And can (slowly) click them together at will.

The TRUE Fairy Tale

is having my own (worn out) Wand

And clicking my own (scuffy) Ruby Slippers

Happily

Ever

After!

ONE LOUSY LIMERICK--

There was this Senior Lady from Kent

Who would try to write what she meant.

Though her joints often ache,

And her memory quake

To live fully she was heartily bent.

This limerick actually lies

And I admit this with some small sighs--

I'm not really from Kent,

But "Kent" limerickly is heaven-sent,

And I'm not yet poetically wise.

If I could rhyme something with "Arlington Heights",

Or we all could go out and fly kites,

I would be truly a muse,

And you'd be amused,

And we could "Do The Twist" in flaming red tights!

I'm taking a colorful turn

To write limericks I have much to learn.

If you're still with me now,

I really don't know how

To this blog you would ever return!

A TAXING EXPERIENCE!

          So one week ago, on Monday March 14th, I did my income taxes for last year.  It seems I shoveled in such a lavish sum of money during 2015 that I was bumped up into a larger tax bracket than I anticipated.  I must be part of that wealthy crowd that needs to siphon off more money to the government in return for their abundant lifestyle.

          And so I needed to pay a large amount in taxes.  I was very depressesed.

          Remember that sweet blog I wrote just before this one?  The one entitled "Enough"?

          WELL, IT SEEMS THAT "ENOUGH" IS NOT  ENOUGH!

       ARGGGH!!!

ENOUGH!

          So this charming Mary Engelbreit print hangs in our apartment hallway, so that I can see it everyday, and affirm its message:

"TO BE CONTENT WITH WHAT WE POSSESS

IS THE GREATEST AND MOST SECURE

OF RICHES."

          I often need this reminder, when I'm paying bills, sighing over my credit card balance, checking over coupons. wishing I could winter in Florida, negotiating a few dollars off my phone and cable bills, and on and on.

          The Attitude of Gratitude does not always bloom in my crabby soul.  I think that I need more to REALLY be ok.....which is downright silly.  Compared to so much of the world, I live like a queen... like the goddess that I am!  I eat well (TOO well), am gloriously retired on an adequate fixed income, have all the comforts and entertainment that modern technology and restaurant menus can offer.

          More importantly, under the "Best Things in Life are Free" column, I have: 

 with three precious children 

and the same number of precious grandchildren; 

amazing sisters and brothers,

 a Mom still lively at the age of 96, 

so many other great family members, 

a veritable stable of friends and buddies....

my computer and smart phone,

my sense of humor,

my library card,

my writing, 

yes, yes, and yes.

SIGH.

          Still, my "dark side" (reference to Star Wars) will snarl "Yes, but" at odd moments during my day.  That little girl in the Engelbreit inspirational print?  The one eating that bowl of cherries and being soooooooo content with what she has?

          I'd still like to check in on her a few hours later, when all she has are pits!

         

FOUR BESTIE BABES

              Years ago, when we lived in New Mexico 

(a long story to be explained in a future blog),

 I HAD to purchase this sweet print of Four Indian Maidens, 

who seemed to be "hanging out together"

in a circle of great affection.   

They reminded me of my own three "Besties", 

Marianne, Judy, and Mary, 

and the special joy and closeness we felt with each other.  

That framed print still hangs in my home 

where I can see it every day

 and celebrate this incredible bond 

we continue to share through the years.

Years ago, we posed for this picture together,

 and I feel that love vividly...

THE FOUR BESTIES

(Me, Mary, Judy, Marianne, left to right)

Don't we just look like we share a special secret?  Can't you see the link between us? 

Marianne and Judy were friends from grammar school--Marianne from the age 5--

and Mary became my instant friend the moment I met her

in the Teachers Lounge where we taught high school together.

Mary became absorbed into our small group as if she had been there all along.

An added bonus:  our husbands became friends, 

so we could enjoy many social events together.  

We hosted frequent themed potluck "progressive" dinner for years.

We still "have" to share an occasional brunch together.

That special dynamic, 

of secrets shared, 

joys celebrated, 

sufferings eased, 

sorrows consoled, 

that thread so ethereal yet steely strong

 will bind us together

forever.

IT'S THE JOYOUS CONVERSATION 

THAT REALLY HAD 

NO BEGINNING

NOR WILL EVER, 

EVER 

END.

INSPIRATIONAL MUG THOUGHTS!

"Whatever your mind can conceive and believe,

it will achieve."

          So speaks a lovely coffee mug covered with inspiration, a gift from a lifelong friend Marianne.  I have often sipped from that mug, and even sometimes allowed myself to be inspired.  Never mind that it's somewhat difficult to read all the golden words as they encircle the mug--they are there, and I know they are there....

          And I often have been calmed and consoled--and even mildly fired up by this mug.  Or at the very least, I have been stimulated by the caffeine residing within!

"There's no failure except

in no longer trying."

          And so I dutifully try, try again....

Try another diet or "sensible eating plan".  

Try another occupation (I DO have a colorful crazy quilt of a resume now).  

Try another place to live--just ask my friends and family, 

who now enter my address in pencil.  

Try another exercise plan--or movement--or twitch.  

Try another weigh-in....

will the number go down if I put the scale on the bath rug? 

(Answer: it really does!)  

"Success is an attitude. Get yours right."

          No one can ever accuse me of lacking an attitude.  I can strike an attitude anytime, anywhere, as proven in this Christmas Eve attitude I tossed out while posing with my sisters. 

My brother John, the photographer, said, "Show some ATTITUDE", and so I did!

(That would be me on the far right, showing much elbow and attitude.)

"What you believe yourself to be, you are."

          WELL, AT THE VERY LEAST, I AM A TERRIFIC COFFEE DRINKER!

SUCCESS: DAY ONE

"Success consists of going from failure to failure

 without loss of enthusiasm." 

(Winston Churchill)

          So I've had a "successful day", by my lights. This blog is proof that I can still pull up feeble enthusiasm from some buried wellspring of optimism!

          With retirement came the gift of TIME, unfettered and unscheduled. When I come to Sunday afternoon and evenings, I remember the melancholy feeling of a work week beginning the next day, of free time and free choice gone again for five days.  Sundays were a real horror show when the work was unhappy, like my horrific year teaching special ed junior high English, with 90-minute classes, rowdy students and no faith in my teaching ability.

          I watch worker bees in the stores I visit during my occasional weekly errands, and I remember being restricted all day by my work schedule.  I had to be somewhere in a timely fashion five days a week, fifty weeks a year, with work I often dreaded.  Then I would come home and sob out my despair after dinner, hidden away in my room.

          Some of that drudgery was the result of a lifetime of untreated depression, finally lifted by the beatific prescription of Prozac in my mid-fifties.

          Adjusting to retirement and unscheduled time is wonderful but scary---not unlike working "without a net".  Your day is no longer shaped by your work duties and motherly duties and homemaker duties, so you are FREE!  But free can be scary.

          So retirees begin to volunteer, to take continuing education classes, to brunch or lunch with other retirees, to read, to babysit, and to.....to.....make THE BEST use of their time...  

RIGHT?

          I am strolling through my seventh year of retirement, and I still find the gift of unscheduled time a mixed blessing.  Because now I can use some of this time in SENSIBLE, USEFUL, HEALTHY pursuits.   Ugh.    Like exercising and writing and preparing sensible meals and thinking lofty thoughts.  NOT idly playing Spider Solitaire on my smartphone. NOT staring at the delightful bounty of television shows available via streaming.  NOT overdoing the reading--but I can't ever see that as a vice, as I stare with joy at my straining basket filled with ripe and juicy library books!

          After a delightfully winter of slothful hibernation (is there any other kind?), I woke up today, an abnormally balmy 70º day, knowing that I needed to start being successful. 

Successful, as in exercising, 

drinking water, eating well,

 writing in my blog--

yada, yada, yada.

          And, dear faithful blog readers, you see that I have not lost my enthusiasm to succeed, after so many failures to be healthy and productive and sensible with my time and energy!

          So for one perfectly sweet day so far, I have succeeded!!!

SIX IMPOSSIBLE THINGS

“One can’t believe impossible things.”
'I daresay you haven’t had much practice,' said the Queen. 
'When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day.
 Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as
 six impossible things before breakfast.'”

          --Typically wacky yet wise words from one of my favorite books, Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass.  When I confront another deliciously unscheduled day in my retired life, I know now that I need to at least try a few different things per day.  ("Impossible" would take much more effort!)

          So I cook a new meal, write a new blog, hang an old picture in a new spot, unpack a delivered package from months ago, strike a new pose, sip a new mug of coffee=SIX (IM)POSSIBLE THINGS!

          It's strangely energizing, 

and usually initiates more "new" tasks,

 or old tasks with a new twist.  

          I am in hibernation mode these past few wintry months by design.  Cold winds and icy sidewalks hold no charm for me, as I still negotiate by cane through my world.  I have long enjoyed the enchantment of snuggling down under a soft throw or blanket, reading a book, checking my email, viewing a wonderful movie via DVD, or binge-watching a streamed-in television series.

          Even during my former lifestyles--busy Mom, busy librarian, busy person in general--having this relaxed nesting-in lifestyle would have been appealing, and not at all appalling.  Yet even when I ventured out much more (commuting and working, travelling into downtown Chicago for plays or the Art Institute, organizing semi-mega events involving family and friends) doing nothing certainly had its charms.

         When my children were small, having an hour to myself was curiously exciting; I felt a real frisson of joy inside.  I suddenly had choices driven by my own desires and inclinations.  I had forgotten how delicious that could be!

          When you retire, the structure of a work schedule disappears. You seem to walk around without a net, stepping cautiously into every free minute with a strange wonder.  You are no longer being paid for your time and labor; your existence isn't based upon tasks and outward recognition.  And some of that recognition was quite nice--nicer than you realized until it was gone.  

          Child rearing had its dividends in hugs and smiles, and its downside in monotony and poop and tantrums.  There was the inevitable need to clean up a regularly dusty and sticky house; that tiresomely empty dinner table waiting impatiently for some sort of meal every night; those wayward childhood acts to discipline or at least tamp down.

          It was never the child rearing or housekeeping or meal preparation in itself that was debilitating to my spirit:  it was the inevitable repetition, the nagging monotony.

          Do I miss any of it now that I have freeform time facing me every morning, with only myself and my needs to consider?  Do I quake at the idea of trying "six impossible things before breakfast" that are new or different? Do I miss the patter of little and then larger feet?  The upturned faces and hungry mouths round the dinner table?  The bushels of sweet laundry and the house to be cleaned and the weekend to be filled with all them-stuff?????

 Are you kidding me?

HAPPY LOVE DAY!

HAPPY LOVE DAY!

          How can I miss writing on this favorite holiday of mine:  VALENTINE'S DAY!

          I send real cards, I send Ecards, I give presents (formerly to children, now to my grandchildren), I wear red turtlenecks and red slipper socks.  I thoroughly enjoy a day devoted to telling everyone how much I love them/wear red, my favorite color/possibly eat chocolates or other fitting sweet treats!

          I vary the intensity and volume of presents and greetings from year to year.  One Valentine's Day I gave my oldest child Matt, who was enraptured with all the Star Wars films, the model of Han Solo's ship the Millenium Falcon.  This was a huge step up from candy hearts and some new markers. I think I wanted to compensate from not getting it for him at Christmas time.

(((Who could understand the convolutions of my ever-fermentingbrain--

certainly not me, its bemused owner!)))

          Then there was the lonely Valentine's Day six months after I had relocated 4/5 of my family to New Mexico, and starting to realize it was not one of my best ideas. I sent all my female besties (sisters and friends) a copy of Anne Morrow Lindbergh's book A Gift from the Sea,  a sweet (mostly chick) book. It was a favorite of mine for morning-inspirational-quote-reading.  Many pre-retirement busy working mother mornings I had need for inspiration...these were all my pre-Prozac days also.  

      (((Fodder for another blog:  How I Slogged Through My Days for 50+ years without Prozac.))) 

          ANYWAY, this Valentine's Day, I sent loving Ecards to my closest family and friends, sent real in-the-mail cards to my three grandchildren Jake, Rosie and Bella.  And I bought small presents from my favorite gift emporium, the Arlington Heights Dollar Tree store, wrapped them in red tissue, and presented them in shiny red foil gift bags.  Fun!

          My darling Niki started my day with a loving REAL card atop my computer--she knew I would spy it first thing!  I received other greetings, including another actual card from my forever friend Mary Barr, who still avails herself of the USPS to send real mail.  I also have enjoyed several Ecard and Email greetings.  And soon my son Matt, daughter-in-law Laura and grand daughter Rosie are stopping by with some lovely greeting.

     That I have so much love in my life, to give and receive--what a juicy reason for a holiday!

           

GOOD INTENTIONS

Good Intentions!

          So how many times in my life have I "started fresh" with a juicy blank page and a heart-full of good intentions?  How many days in my life and my years?  But that fresh new page, that blinking cursor on my laptop, that sweet hope in my heart----it nudges me to hop aboard the Good Intentions Train for my favorite destination, Healthy Slimmer Kathie, U.S.A.

          So I turn a page in my WLJ (Weight Loss Journal), a chunky little spiral notebook which I began on the auspicious day after my Bariatric Bypass Surgery, April 23rd, 2005.  THAT was quite a successful and exciting journey!  Within the year, I swooshed down my ample bulk from an all-time high of 267 pounds to 160 pounds.  (To be honest, I was probably 160 pounds for just a few hours!) 

          I was the center of attention in all my family and social "circles", at work, online, wherever I could smoothly present my wonderfully diminished body.  It was heaven--for a while.  All my medical numbers won the lottery--blood sugar, cholesterol, blood pressure--all just gorgeous!

          I was that Belle of the Ball I always wanted to be.  This photo, taken on Easter, April 2007, with my kids, shows the svelte me--captured in a happy slim state of mind AND body:

(I'm the short, older skinny-ish person 

in the middle of those gorgeous young men--my sons Jeff and Matt--

and their equally gorgeous young wives--Susan and Laura--left to right) 

          Well, the hunt for that photo had me rooting around unpacked boxes of photos in my closet, scanning the photo, only to find it among my "iPhoto" collection in my computer AND on Facebook.

GRRRRRRR!!

         Anyway, back to Blank Pages and Good Intentions--and an hour after I started this blog--I ask you all, dear readers, to send me inspiring thoughts of good cheer.  I have a starting weight of 242, which is just plain awful.  My winter jacket of oh-so-many years was very loose on me during my first few skinny winters.  Now it bunches up alarmingly over my too-ample hippage....sigh...

          So I reach out to my hope-filled blank pages, and start again.  I have enjoyed many other losing journeys, but just never stayed very long at my destination......

         

     OH WELL,  ALL ABOARD THE GOOD INTENTIONS TRAIN!

POPPING UP AGAIN!

POPPING UP AGAIN!

          So here I am, after all these months--finally blogging again!  Last entry July 19th--one day before my 74th birthday.  Now it's a frigid 9 degrees at 9am, and I'm cozily hibernating for the winter.  I like staying by my hearth....and yes, we do have a hearth and fireplace....but only we only keep golden "fairy lights" blazing gently under our mantel:

  

          It's a cheery addition to our day, viewed from our vantage point on our cushy couch.  

          I happily confess to being a "Couch Potato"....a Golden Potato (my favorite kind).  I am

mostly mellow and calm--and yes, complacent too.  Winter temperatures find me snuggled under my soft throw in my corner of the couch...the couch I boldly purchased online, without a "butt test".  That would be without actually seeing it, and sitting in it.  The furniture store did not have one in their showroom, and I just went ahead and ordered it.  Turned out that it was perfect, from the first moment that Niki and I sat contentedly in it.  It has the necessary feature of two reclining ends, and a center console which folds down for beverages and remotes and books and tissues, etc, etc.

          We have our cushy, reclining thrones to greet us all day and evening.  We view our favorite streaming TV shows (currently watching all seasons of "The X-Files")...we read...we pontificate on all things pertinent in our world.  I also happily use my laptop or phone for email and writing and shopping and conversing...and, well, just about most anything I choose to do during the day.

          There is a real danger of butt-spread with this cushy hibernation, so I have commenced a not very strenuous regimen of ten-minute "Chair-obics" via On-Demand fitness TV programs.  I will work up to another ten minutes, and then another, until thirty minutes will max out my daily motion.

          I am by nature a hibernating creature.  My favorite activities radiate from my sitting position--reading, DVD and TV viewing, eating, computing, talking, etc.  Why run around uncomfortably when sitting takes care of most everything pleasant and desirable in my life? Yes, I know, I know, physical health does involve some exercise every day, but...sigh..

          I often considered setting up Inactivity Workshops to extol the virtues of this fine lifestyle.

So many friends and relatives have injured themselves by moving around that I am quite concerned about their over-activity.  And most activity could be considered over-activity.

          Whew, my hands have had quite the workout now, so that will be all the blogging for now.

          Have a pleasantly serene (dare I say "inactive") day...I know that I will!

   

OUT OF THE BALLPARK

          So I wrote an inspired, heartfelt blog about my brother Nick.  I had the photos I wanted to use, and I had been thinking about what I would say.  The words came pouring out, and I was pleased with the result.  I never imagined the tremendous response I would have from my family--his family--my friends and his friends.  
         
           I had used my writing ability to reach out and say something that mattered, that had been residing in my heart for years.  I entertained, I consoled, I celebrated and commemorated, all at one time.
                   
                              But what do I write after that?
         
           I have many other photos to use in my blog, that of my family, of me, of my life in its many aspects.  But now I want to hit each blog "out of the park".

                                And I know that's impossible.
          
          It's like having that first sip of cold beer on a hot day, that first spoonful of your favorite ice cream, that first kiss from a new love, that first laugh from your baby grandchild, that wedding, or graduation, or vacation, or any other joyful moment, but just THAT FIRST INTENSE MOMENT.

         
  Only over and over again.....a home run all the time.

          
          I can see a pattern over the years of my life---that of chasing down such moments, and trying desperately to repeat them, to extend them, to hold on to them.....but that's impossible.

          
          Even as my babies grew into adorable toddlers, I was already wanting to hold on to each moment with them, to freeze time, to keep the hours and years from whooshing away.

          
          So I took endless photos. (Oh what I could have done with digital technology and camera phones back then!)  I bought a clunky video camera when they first expensively came out---and then realized that I was being a camera-woman, and not a Mom, at the events I was filming.

         
           If I strained to record, or started to feel melancholy about the passing of these moments, then these moments passed out of my grip anyway, and I hadn't been present.  I was not showing up for my own life.

          
          It's been stated frequently that the happiest time in a person's life is the later years.  By then we know that the moments fly by with such speed, and that all we can do is BE PRESENT, in our present.

          
                        For it becomes the past just that quickly. 

         
           So I write my blog, I hope at least weekly, with all the variety that is my life and my minutes.  It would be a great pleasure to share some of my thoughts with other readers, and to resonate with my readers at times.

          
          But then I am blessed with a certain resonating every day in my life, every dawn as the first bird chirps at four a.m., and every sunset as the sky presents its sunset mural.  It is up to me to make those moments special to myself.

(One of my favorite poems, adopted by me when I DID have fifty years or more to see the blossoms):

          A Shropshire Lad  2: Loveliest of Trees, The Cherry Now                                                 ( by A. E. Housman)

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

          With so much less time "to see the cherry hung with snow", I intend to savor even those moments after the cherry blossoms have fallen, when the ball just is a tiny infield single.

          For it is a great privilege to be IN my life, in my NOW.