Stolen Moment

Stolen Moment

I am eating my lunch and taking a 15 minute break to do it. Of course I am still on duty to answer phones and the counter, so this is not really a break but a bit of personal time fit into the cracks.

I haven’t written in a while. I am missing it.

The situation at work has not improved, only another five months to go. Yikes! It is so stressful that it has gone beyond talking about it, that only makes it worse! I really resent having to look forward to months of my life being over and gone forever. At my age every day is prescious.

Our heating season is drawing to a close, although we do need an occasional fire during the evening to keep the chill off. One of our wood piles collapsed, and Attila is starting to fill the woodshed with that wood first. Time to replenesh the supply for next winter!

The black flies are out in force. They are fierce little beasts. I am lucky in that I do not feel the bite, but I do bleed and scar from the bites.

I do want to tidy up the screened in porch soon, so that we can sit outside on nice evenings. So far, most evenings have been too cool to sit out. I don’t fancy sitting out there in a parka for rest and relaxation. The wood chips from heating with wood are the main culprit, they work their way into every available space and cover every available surface.

We visited our little house in the city a few weekends ago. Luna and Janus and the grandbabies and Benny and Bim all came to visit us there, and stayed overnight. We were lucky that Terra and Lares could spend time with us at the same time. It is a small little house, about 750 square feet; and we used every inch of it that weekend. The grandbabies remain grand! What sweet children they are.

That same weekend Attila and I managed to organize our garage at the litte house in the city. It had developed a bad case of chaos. It is better now, but we need to take a few trips to the dump; we are never there for garbage pickup or blue box pickup.

All in all, I am managing to find some pleasure in my personal life and am able to avoid thinking about work for hours at a time.

Worldly Distraction


13 °C
Condition: Mainly Sunny
Pressure: 100.7 kPa
Visibility: 16 km
Temperature: 13.1°C
Dewpoint: -1.7°C
Humidity: 36 %
Wind: NW 30 gust 46 km/h


“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.”
Matsuo Basho


Matsuo Bashō
“Matsuo Bashō (松尾 芭蕉?, 1644 – November 28, 1694), born Matsuo Kinsaku (松尾 金作?), then Matsuo Chūemon Munefusa (松尾 忠右衛門 宗房?),[1][2] was the most famous poet of the Edo period in Japan. During his lifetime, Bashō was recognized for his works in the collaborative haikai no renga form; today, after centuries of commentary, he is recognized as a master of brief and clear haiku. His poetry is internationally renowned, and in Japan many of his poems are reproduced on monuments and traditional sites.”


  1. crochetlady

    I am glad to hear from you. I was worried that things were getting you down. Five months left-that brings you to October. Good news is that you can budget your funds now, and dream of slower paced winter days when you can relax and enjoy peace and quiet and writing, and truly taking pictures. Even if it is cold out!! Take care of yourself though.

    I am happy you got to see your grandchildren,(and children). Grands are so much more fun! They make us laugh! And we can truly enjoy their innocence without worry. Think of them whenever work gets you too down. I keep a picture of my granddaughter up a work. She makes me smile every time. She’s 12 now. But I can flip through each year of pictures and watch her group up all over!

  2. I think I am adjusting to bad, which is not good in general, but is an acceptable coping mechanism. One of my co-workers commented on my seeming good humour. “Denial,” I told him, “denial allows one to bear the unbearable in the short term.”

    crochetlady, I agree, grands are much more fun! We enjoyed watching Tink the two year old stand very still as her uncle “applied” invisible “makeup” to her face, by gently stroking her skin with the bottom end of her magic wand. Too precious for words.
    (I hate the makeup thing, but one has to let go of these small p political views if one is to enjoy a world where others have their own viewpoints. Love is like that, at least it is for me.)

    Joan, I think that sneaking in fifteen minutes for myself has done me the world of good. Got me out of from under the fluorescent light that glares shadeless a few feet above my head and the five machines that hum and whirr around me for eight and half hours every day. I was still there in the chair, but my spirit left the building.

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