Just Me

It's 9.30AM. George has gone to town to pick up Conservancy paperwork and look for bread. It's rare I get the house to myself. Usually it's me who's out doing something, a hike, gardening, work, exploring. I was gone so often he was thinking of getting a scooter so he wouldn't be stuck without transportation.

He's content to stay home. I'd have to say wherever we are that's the case. Sometimes to get some time alone at home, if I know he has some plan to be out I will rearrange my schedule to be in. When he leaves I have to take advantage of the quiet Me-Time because it's always over too fast. I need solitude. If I'm around people too much I start to go mad.

 "Men go crazy in congregations, they only get better one by one."
Gordon Sumner (1951 -  )

That's Sting Theory for ya.
Anywho.....

Solitude is a gift. Both being able to enjoy your own company and to have it. Just  the sounds that you make of your own choosing, the activity is all yours, hearing the rhythm of your own thoughts, maybe letting them come or pushing them away like using a finger to direct a leaf in a still pond. Not that being with someone is bad or annoying, but I believe we all need ME time, personal human alone down time . And not on a trip or having to leave to get it, but in your own home, on your ground surrounded by your life. Women especially tend to be the giving giving giving caregiver/nurturers so much we take back burner to others needs, willingly, but we do wind up being sacrificed. There is no real retirement for women. Time alone with no husbands, friends, kids, cleaning people, construction workers. All alone. You have to take the time to reset the machine, sort through the muckity muck, undistracted and uninterrupted. It's good for you. In the words of Greta Garbo in "Grand Hotel":  "I VANT to be alone!"


I actually don't think she ever said that. I better look that up:

Wikipedia says: But she later remarked, "I never said, 'I want to be alone.' I only said, I want to be let alone. There is a world of difference'"

Exactly.

So what do I do when I'm alone here?  I keep doing stuff. I should be sitting reading and napping and zoning out to the Caribbean scene. It's my intention. Instead I keep thinking of what I COULD be doing. I never just sit down and practice what I preach. There are so many important things to do! But then at least in being alone I can do them with the freedom that solitude gives you, in the silence and stillness of my own head. That's what makes the difference.

These are GREAT shoes! They're made by Clarks. It's like walking in butter, Jello, goose down, like wrapping kittens on your feet.

I try to have projects. Knitting can be unpleasant here if you're using wool. Your hands sweat. I like to keep on knitting but there isn't much call for sweaters, scarves, blankets, so I try to come up with island inspired projects than use cottons and alternative textiles. I started doing a place mat out of linen using bamboo needles, but the raw thread is rough and harsh to knit with. It's slow going. I haven't quit but I stopped that project for a while to do this Uber soft tam hat using a pair of newly arrived Addi Turbo Nickle plated needles.
Not that I will need a wool hat here. Ever.

It's almost like the birds know it's a day of subdued peace. They're here but they're not chattering and yakking and screeching.  

Hey, maybe it's time to sit down now. Maybe watch the birds or take in the quiet. BIRDS! The feeder is empty...  I've got to feed the Hummers. Like the homemade funnel? Necessity and the mother of invention and all that.                   

                                          

One thing about sitting still is when you do get into it, it's nice. Why don't I do this more often? Things happen around you like you're part of the scenery. 

 Scenery! There were those photos to upload. Might as well do some sorting too, won't take long.

 So far I have 700 photos from this trip in 2 BLOG files and a USED file that I try to transfer the used photos to so the main photo file doesn't get over full. It's keeping up with the system that's the weak link.

I shouldn't be reading "The Mosquito Coast" by Paul Theroux. It doesn't particularly make me want to hop back to it when I've put it down. It's everything you don't want to read about the tropics. Just like you don't want to read a novel about a flesh eating virus when you have poison ivy. Where is my copy of "Don't Stop the Carnival"? Though that was tiresome, it was light hearted. How about "Islands in the Stream"? I never read that. I really don't need doom and gloom.

This shelf needed dusting. There's a greasy sort of dust that gets on everything. Sometimes when the wind is just right dust from the Sahara desert winds up here. Do you believe that? All the way across the Atlantic to this little island. It gets on everything, through the screens, clogs up car engines. The blades of the ceiling fans are coated with these mousey sticky dust globules. I draw the line at dusting the shells.

What is Saharan Dust anyway?  I have to look up SAHARAN DUST. Don't you love Google? Just ask a question.... What Is Sahara Dust? And you get "Images for Sahara Dust."

Some very professional person drew the graphic of the dust movement.  Shows real understanding. I hope it wasn't the guy's masters thesis.

That's good to know. 

Sit now? OK, sounds good, first make some tea.... Oh wait... the old tea bags need to be cut and the leaves dumped into the crab food jar. Might as well look in on the bees and crabs.

Maybe Rachel sent me another word on Words With Friends? I should check that. And emails.

 Ok, NOW it's time to sit. 

Hey...... George is back! How did it get to be noon? Well, that was a fun morning of solitude, maybe next time I'll actually sit down and do nothing.