This morning my news banner included an article about the 5 Foods Hurting Your Brain. (I refuse to discuss yesterday's banner that included a story about a man who had his way with an alligator.)

I've determined that only one food was hurting my brain with terminal ennui. Don't get me too wrong here. I love Cheerios, but pre-Linda and post-Linda, Cheerios had been my primary staple. Elderly shut-ins do stoopid stuff like this.

Early this week I ordered meals from Home Bistro. The foods are flash frozen (I always have visions of Flash Gordon zapping the packages), and are easy to prepare if one can operate a microwave oven. Even I can do that.

So last night I feasted on chicken stuffed with broccoli and cheddar, a medley of white/wild rice, and a generous portion of snap beans. Heaven, I tell ya. Heaven. The flavorful bonus was the low calorie count.


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Before I continue too far, I want to tell you about a portion of a conversation I had with my Aunt Jean Carol last night. I told her that as improbable as it might sound, I love my tiny life. I have a tidy routine of necessities, as well as the activities that give me enormous pleasure. I'm happiest when I write or paint. I told her about being on my screened porch yesterday with my easel and paints. It was quite hot (or so I'm told) but my porch has two very quiet ceiling fans. They don't even make a swooshing sound as they push the air around. I also can't hear my 3 thumping concentrators when I'm on the porch. It was quiet. Not one sound. Sunlight dripped through my woods. The air was still. Then I heard the snap of a twig and spotted a deer tiptoeing through my Sanctuary.

My aunt observed how blessed I am to have such peace. *sigh* I know. I am so blessed to be able to reinvent my life on a regular basis - to process the changes I face nearly every day... and still utterly, impossibly, completely adore my tiny life.


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Now, here comes the cranky pants part of this post.

Mornings and evenings are my most difficult passages. This was true even when I was only on 2LO2. While grabbing fistfuls of Kleenex, my body awakens each morning with an intense drive to cough a lot. Once I get through this unpleasant stage, I'm good for the day.

But then when I prepare for bed, I need to grab fistfuls of Kleenex again when coughing unkindly careens into my life.

It's also during these moments that oxygen hunger intensifies. Last night I decided to play hardball. I grabbed the morphine.

Well, I won't be doing that again anytime soon. Stuff tasted like tar and I'm not sure it made a difference. *sigh*

I have a new approach now. I'm determined to rise above these bouts of debilitating coughing... well, as best possible. I can't beat the disease, but I can determine to the best of my ability the quality of life I want. It isn't just about ditching the Cheerios.

Positivity isn't going to improve my morning and evening setbacks, but I do think I can dilute the intensity with a meditative approach. Focus. Focus. Focus. Step back from the ledge. Focus.


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New to my collection:







Vintage Miniature 950 Silver Greek Byzantine Icon Handmade Mary and Baby Jesus. It's a vintage copy of an original that can be found in the Byzantine Museum. 3-1/2" x 3" x 3/8". Well marked, hand painted faces, with a caption on back. Circa 1970's


As always, thanks for stopping by. I appreciate it so much.

Love.