Corpses, beans, and babies

         This morning’s yoga class was soothing, aside from those moments when my joints reminded me exactly how many decades they’d been in operation. Our savasana period at the end (also called, grimly, the corpse pose) seemed longer than usual. This is the point where we all lie back on our mats like, well, corpses, and relax. After all that stretching and bending, it’s super calming and I sometimes leave in kind of a trance afterwards.

My Inner Witch

 

What perfect timing, as we spiral into the witching season. Today I may have experienced what those women long ago felt when they were just tired of unsolicited guidance or being told what to do. At this late point in life, I mostly do what I damn well want to do, and the way I want to do it. 

Bar None

 

On Friday I met a friend for lunch at an oddity in our area full of standard restaurants. We were at a Russian-owned crepe house, with not only create-your-own crepes but also a menu with pages and pages (6? 8?) of teas.

Fishing Expedition

 

In these perilous times I rely on the blogosphere more and more to escape when I feel I can’t handle all the darkness and impending doom one more minute - and yes, I admit it, to find validation once in a while of my side of things.

Stem to Stern

       I suspect most women are like me and would prefer a yoga class of just their own gender. Don’t get me wrong – I think it’s wonderful for men, who are generally less limber than women, to be interested in keeping their joints operational. And it’s refreshing to see guys recognize the value of something physical other than the usual traditional fitness regimes that can be hard on aging parts.

          But today as I veered sideways during sun salutation I was disconcerted to see a very hunky guy immediately to my left, one mat behind. No matter how enlightened the fella, if I’m going to be raising my keister to the sky during downward dog, I’d prefer to have a lady's gaze on the stern of my own imperfect personal boat.

          After that came the grocery store, which was blissfully quiet, except for the employees busily stocking the shelves. The store’s flyer for the next week’s deals takes effect on Thursdays, so maybe everyone else is waiting till the new prices go into effect before shopping. Still, I found a good deal on Progresso soup, although that was cancelled out, I suppose, by the $8 jar of mayonnaise I bought.

         

No worries about invading the young man's privacy since his hair screens his identity.

And I was disconcerted for the second time today by this sight at the counter where a worker was assembling a grinder for someone. I’m the last to get in a lather about someone else’s hairstyle – it’s only hair, folks – but I did wonder about the point of the baseball cap and the flexibility of local health codes.

Fun and Beauty

 

Little news from here other than what was probably my first and last venture onto the new town pickleball courts this morning, since today it will get up to 80 degrees and then go plunging downward until probably spring.

Back to the mat

 

I’m such a Virgo that a schedule can soothe my soul, although paradoxically I sometimes find myself grinding my teeth over the sameness of my retirement days. There's just no pleasing some people.

What a difference a week makes

 This time last week we were gearing up for the first overnight visit here by the twins without parents. Okay, it didn’t really take me a week to recover enough to write a post, but things are definitely different around here than they were last weekend.

Overwhelmed

 

I grew up surrounded by books.

Trash Rebels

     Ever since we moved to the commune condo complex seven years ago, My Guy has had his own war with our past trash company. 

Update - Phew!

Not our complex, but closer to town

Getting information when there are 213,000 power outages in Sarasota County alone is difficult, but our little town in Florida appears to have dodged a cannonball.

Rising Tide

 

          We’re getting a little jumpy here in Massachusetts about our little town in Venice, FL.   

TWTWTW

 

(Remember that show -  That Was the Week That Was?)

Sorry – I’ve been lazy about posting so here’s a quick review of the week that I’ll just dump  in your lap.

Taking Umbrage - and packing it away again

 

          I sat down this afternoon all fired up to sent a huffy note to the property manager of our condo complex. I have nothing against him, and in fact am very glad he’s ours, but My Guy and I had received a letter yesterday regarding “Home Owner Plant Bed Maintenance.”