The Visible Woman...July 2, 2003

When people ask, I say "nothing." When they ask what I do, that is.

It isn't true, of course. I could say "I'm a housewife." But that wouldn't be true. I do spend time doing laundry, tidying up, cooking a little. But no more than a normal person moving through their abode. I have a maid, yard people, a handyman, etc.

But I do things. I work with my computers, organizing, upgrading, fixing, backing up. I actually use my computers to communicate and do this journal. I plan my trips, review budgets and investments, do errands, shop. (I used to shop rarely when I worked.)

And I also labor. In the effort to organize everything on house and grounds and turn back some years of neglect here and there. Today I tried to tidy up the potting shed in the back. Trimmed newly emergent bamboo around it. Started cleaning up trash and abandoned pots around it. Ventured inside to organize old towels, sheets and blankets used to cover delicate plants when it's about sixty or seventy degrees cooler. (This time of year, with sweat soaking the heavy demin that's keeping you from getting scratched and bitten, it's seems absurd.) I pulled weeds here and there, picked up dead branches, pondered what to do in certain areas. And tried to identify poison ivy, of course. We've had a bunch removed. We still find it. (And plants taunting us by looking like it, I expect.)

There is labor involved in all this. I hoist some iron screen panels across the yard. But don't finish placing them where I think they would look good because of some plants I think might be poison ivy. I bend and dig through some Evening Jasmine bushes to find the place to snip the invasive bamboo.

When I'm doing this kind of labor these days, I notice that I don't get tired or sore. My fitness routine has helped there.

Finally, I give up my labors and shower up and go sweat again doing my exercise routine. It may seem silly, but I need to do the specific exercises to build the muscles and stamina for the labor. I think I do anyway.

Anyway, I've decided the only way to control all this stuff is to chip away at it, a bit at a time. Throw something out, clean something up, just keep doing it. And, all the while, it's more active than sitting at a desk, worrying about office politics, technology and business. And, while I do it, I think about the books I won't write.

Wednesday, July 2, 2003

A Journal from Austin, Texas. A Project of LBFFP Stealth Publishing.
food	reading	writing	time	exercise	health and mood

there are strange things at the zoo, like babies riding on mom's back	labor Just because I'm retired doesn't mean I don't do anything. When people ask, I say "nothing." When they ask what I do, that is. It isn't true, of course. I could say "I'm a housewife." But that wouldn't be true. I do spend time doing laundry, tidying up, cooking a little. But no more than a normal person moving through their abode. I have a maid, yard people, a handyman, etc. But I do things. I work with my computers, organizing, upgrading, fixing, backing up. I actually use my computers to communicate and do this journal. I plan my trips, review budgets and investments, do errands, shop. (I used to shop rarely when I worked.) And I also labor. In the effort to organize everything on house and grounds and turn back some years of neglect here and there. Today I tried to tidy up the potting shed in the back. Trimmed newly emergent bamboo around it. Started cleaning up trash and abandoned pots around it. Ventured inside to organize old towels, sheets and blankets used to cover delicate plants when it's about sixty or seventy degrees cooler. (This time of year, with sweat soaking the heavy demin that's keeping you from getting scratched and bitten, it's seems absurd.) I pulled weeds here and there, picked up dead branches, pondered what to do in certain areas. And tried to identify poison ivy, of course. We've had a bunch removed. We still find it. (And plants taunting us by looking like it, I expect.) There is labor involved in all this. I hoist some iron screen panels across the yard. But don't finish placing them where I think they would look good because of some plants I think might be poison ivy. I bend and dig through some Evening Jasmine bushes to find the place to snip the invasive bamboo. When I'm doing this kind of labor these days, I notice that I don't get tired or sore. My fitness routine has helped there. Finally, I give up my labors and shower up and go sweat again doing my exercise routine. It may seem silly, but I need to do the specific exercises to build the muscles and stamina for the labor. I think I do anyway. Anyway, I've decided the only way to control all this stuff is to chip away at it, a bit at a time. Throw something out, clean something up, just keep doing it. And, all the while, it's more active than sitting at a desk, worrying about office politics, technology and business. And, while I do it, I think about the books I won't write.
JUST TYPING To clean and organize. You start in one corner. And simply work. Until it's done. What could be simpler?
		Food Diary. BLT made with mayo, horseradish, spinach (no lettuce on hand), turkey bacon and homemade bread. Some green onions. A plate of nachos. A vodka Gimlet. One half of a seafood trio appetizer (scallop, smoked salmon, tuna tartare) and one half of a cold crabcake appetizer. A glass of Cabernet.
		Time flies.... The day just goes...sucked by old junk that's accumulated in my life and in my head, by errands, by exercise, by having to take two showers, by sitting and listening to music while not doing much else.

		Reading. Courting Danger by Alice Marble. I like first person accounts of World War II. I'm up to 1939 in this book and so it is transforming itself from a tennis book to a war book.
		My excuse today is that one must have experiences before writing. I was experiencing. Yeah, right.
		Exercise Biking for fifteen minutes. Lower body exercises, arm exercises. Biking (to nowhere, of course) for thirty minutes.
	.	fell pretty good, actually, physically and emotionally...a few worries, but, all in all, good.