Tag Archives: blogging

Procrastination–

Posted on by
Reply

Jack gets over the line just in time again – –

Yes – given the opportunity I’m a terrible procrastinator, or maybe I’m just lazy!

It was our cats, today, that convinced me – cold and raining outside — so instead of going out or chasing each other round the house, they curled up on the bed and went to sleep. I was seriously tempted to join them…

…but they wouldn’t have approved!

When I was still working full-time at the community college in my home-town in Scotland, I worked to a schedule and got things done with enthusiasm. Even after I retired from there I continued with contract work and hit my deadlines.

When we ran our bookstore in Big Stone Gap, I was usually on top of stuff – fixed things as needed, converted the car port into an enclosed garage and the basement into our living space, complete with two rooms and a toilet.

Maybe it’s just something to do with aging and finding many physical things harder to do. On the other hand, it might be that I’ve learned that I’m not very good at some things: I hate anything to do with plumbing or electrical work!

Now that we’ve moved from a 1903 house to one that was built in 1890 but with many additions and modifications over the intervening years and a much larger backyard, I’m presented with many more reasons to avoid things that wait to be done.

Or maybe I am just lazy – – –

Come back next Wednesday for more from Jack

Friends Care And Do–

Posted on by
Reply

Writer Wendy’s weekly blog

Today I am going to Biltmore to see the Christmas lights. Today is Epiphany, the proper day on which to mark the end of the 12 days of Christmas. Tomorrow Biltmore will take down the lights.

It is bucketing rain today. A dear friend widowed during COVID has on her bucket list to see the mansion decorated for the holidays. She has a ticket. She meant to go last week, and everyone going with her got sick. Today is the last day she can go. Being a widow means finding the courage to do many things alone that you would have done with a partner (or even over a partner’s objections). My friend took up salsa dancing. She went back to work, taking diverse jobs using all her considerable skills both in office work and in compassionate human care. (She is my parents’ weekly home care assistant.) She does not want to go alone, because Christmas lights on Epiphany are a thing to be enjoyed with a friend.

I dislike Biltmore. But I like my friend. She isn’t a victim; she’s a survivor who helps other people survive. She won’t care if I make fun of some of the opulence she will be so richly enjoying, and I’ll try to tamp down my natural sarcasm about the excesses of rich people’s stuff. These are the spaces we make for one another. These are the things we do for one another.

I am going with her because she does not want to go alone. She has shown kindness to my family, courage in the face of devastating losses, resilience in becoming a great salsa dancer–even though her church friends think it’s a little weird and perhaps too powerful and sexy for a widowed woman–and her determination that her walk with God not be dictated by her circumstances.

She wants to go see the lights at Biltmore today. It is bucketing rain and going to freeze tonight. We are going to see the lights at Biltmore because this is the kind of thing we who care do for each other.

This story may smack of “Ain’t I great taking my friend to do something I don’t care about in the teeth of a winter storm.” But that ain’t it, either.

We are here for each other because we have known each other a long time and understand the limits of human endurance. She wants to see the Christmas lights. She gets to see the Christmas lights. It’s good to have snow tires. It’s good to have friends.