The tangled threads of life -

transitive verb. 1a : to disengage or separate the threads of : disentangle.

 b : to cause to come apart by or as if by separating the threads of. 2 : to resolve

the intricacy, complexity, or obscurity of : clear up unravel a mystery.

Life has had many moments lately where I've felt tangled in a web of 

unhappiness, loss and pain. I don't like to use my spot here in the blog

 world to 'air my dirty linen', moan and groan about aging and health

issues, disparage family or friends, or write reams about negative

 pandemic issues etc. 

I strive to make this my 'happy place' where I can share good things.

Nature, travel, the garden, decorating, photography, fashion, cooking and

 baking. During the past few weeks the deaths of two much-loved

 travel friends, one in the UK, the other in Arizona, and then last

 Friday a dear family member - a second cousin in the UK - have brought

 me great sadness.

My thoughts have been for the families of those three special people.

 All will be so missed by so many.

My own current personal mobility issue, due to what seems to be a

 major right leg hamstring strain, is making walking, bending, any

 type of movement, so painful. It's definitely knocking me for a loop! 

I started PT two weeks back and have to admit I've yet to receive

 any relief. I'm good about doing the exercises at home on days when

 I don't go to the facility, but I still have excruciating pain.

Anyway, I'll keep going and hope this condition will eventually be resolved

 and I can get out of bed and stand up in the morning without screaming!

********************

Leaving you with some pretty Autumn peeks for the weekend. . . . which

I hope will be enjoyable for you and your loved ones. 

Autumn Collage - 2020

My house - Autumn 2021

The Mess. . . . . . . and the last meal!

The big heating and cooling home project was started this morning and

 will continue until completed, probably Wednesday morning.  

It's a mess . . . . . . everywhere.  Today anything required from upstairs was

no longer available.  Fortunately the very cold night warmed up quickly this 

morning and the sun has been shining all day. I took a break from the mess

and had my hair cut and color done, enjoying the time away from clanging

 metal, drilling, hammering etc. Fat garlands by the yard of old, dusty silvered

 ducts snake about the grass, piles of pink and yellow insulation look like

 cotton candy, numerous rusty metal boxes, sheets of plywood, tool boxes

 and other questionable paraphernalia cover the driveway. New equipment

and parts stand shiny and clean in the sunshine.

We sneeze, the workmen sneeze - dust from the old equipment or pollen

from the blooming shrubs and trees?  

Not to change the subject (but know you're not interested in seeing photos of the piles

 of trash outside) do you ever think what you would request as your last meal - like

 the movie characters on their way to the 'chair'?  

Today, though hopefully not my last by any means, I needed my favorite
 breakfast to stand me in good stead for facing the mess in the house.

This easy meal I would also actually request if ever heading to the gallows

 or electric chair!  Just a slice or two of good crusty farm bread toasted,

 salted Irish butter, and my favorite English thick cut orange marmalade.

I perhaps inherited this from my mother. I recall it was her go to favorite

 when she was not up to cooking a big meal just for herself. Her familiar voice
 would cross the pond through the long distance cable, and when I asked what she
 was having for supper, she would say with a laugh, "I really just fancy some toast
 and marmalade." 

Bob read me my horoscope from the morning paper and we had to laugh -

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)

"Take the plunge. Home improvements, reconnecting with old friends and romance are favored."

The home improvements are underway : I bumped into an old friend at the salon : now just awaiting the romance which could be snuggling to stay warm tonight, yet another cold one forecast.

Scribble Picnic. . . . . . . . . Letters/Mail

Today I'm sharing a peek into a special box.

My precious box of dozens of letters from my mother date back to 1977.

Sadly, I didn't keep ones which flew across the pond from 1962 when I came to

 the US until then. It was the year we downsized, packed up, and moved south from

New England - but these I did keep thankfully.

I spent many hours reading them not long after her death, putting them in

 chronological order with instructions as to what I would like done with them

 later, realizing they are a special part of my family history. Mother wrote in her

distinct handwriting, her words always a joy to me being so far away from home.

In the days before computers, and when international phone service was so expensive,

 we wrote weekly on those thin blue air letters, or sheets of airmail paper tucked inside

 blue or white envelopes, often with the addition of a few blurry photos etc.

 I believe that for both of us letter writing was not a chore but an enjoyable exchange

 of our daily lives separated by those thousands of miles.

~ My box of beautiful memories ~

Michael's SCRIBBLE PICNIC theme for today is Letters/Mail - hope you stop

 by HERE later to see what our group has come up with to illustrate such an interesting

 subject. Letters can often be full of pleasant surprises. . . . . . .  once you get past

 the bills and junk mail crammed into our mailboxes or stuffed through the letterbox.