Passing strange

Strange things are happening. First of all, I’m forgetting to eat. I never forget to eat. I love eating. I love food. I love the way the clock is divided by meals and snack time. In fact, my clock has pictures of food at specific times: Almonds at 6:30; cereal at 8:30, a fresh nectarine at 11:00, salad at noon, cow/pig/chicken at 6:00. If the clock doesn’t tell me when to eat my stomach always does. I love a crunchy, salty snack at 3:00 – corn chips or carrots, saltine crackers and butter with a shake of salt, peanut butter and mustard on a hunk of celery. I love my husband’s ritual of “cheese o’clock” and its accompanying pint of beer or glass of wine. Most of all I love dessert after dinner. I’m making rhubarb pie tonight – if I remember.

I have no schedule. For a person who is a chronic list-maker and clock-watcher, this is disrupting my personal time-space continuum. Recovering from knee surgery is doing this. I’m at home. No work schedule to adhere to, no bus to catch, no exercise regime other than physio to give me marching orders. The sun is handy, though. From my spot on the bed, I watch the maple tree outside the window begin to glow and I know it’s about 10:30. When it knocks on the window over my desk I know it is 1:30-ish. When yellow ribbons glide over the peace plant, it’s coming up to four o’clock. When the whole room warms up, its sundown.

I’m like a human sundial.

My husband has become attentive. I blame this on retirement. When our youngest daughter asked how she would get home after track and field practice one day this week when no late buses are running, I said “Ask dad.”

Oh yeah. He’s like a stay-at-home-mom now.

From the ages of 3-6 she asked me nearly every day why I couldn’t be at home all day, like Brianna’s mom. At last her dream of a stay-at-home-parent has come true.

Weirdest of all, darling husband has become an e-mail correspondent. For years – YEARS! – friends and family sent messages for him TO ME because he NEVER read/replied to his e-mail. Now, his former colleagues are daily recipients of must-read-now articles gleaned from the New York Times and he doesn’t understand why they don’t respond right away.

I see by the sun it is time for a nectarine. Thanks for listening. Wishing you sweet things today on a schedule that works for you.


23 thoughts on “Passing strange

  1. Cynthia Jobin September 15, 2015 / 12:11 pm

    Years ago, I learned from my dog how to be a sundial. I don’t always remember how, especially when mindless busyness tries to take over. But being a sundial is a good thing to know how to do. Especially on rainy days.

    Hope your recovery is going well, all told. And thanks for the kick-ass message from Sister Rosetta!

    Liked by 1 person

    • redosue September 15, 2015 / 12:26 pm

      Isn’t Sister Rosetta a treat? I actually went looking for a different song and found this by accident. I’m enjoying being a sundial. My wee dog hangs out with me and we flip and flop from side to side to make sure the sun is getting our best side.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Julie Ethan September 15, 2015 / 12:29 pm

    This running thread about the changes in your husband is cracking me up.


    • redosue September 15, 2015 / 12:31 pm

      OMG, Julie, I haven’t even got warmed up but my small inner censor is struggling with protecting his dignity. Some moments I don’t recognize the guy, he’s so unlike the man who went to work every day!


      • Julie Ethan September 15, 2015 / 12:47 pm

        A little dignity in exchange for your breakthrough thesis. Could be your meal ticket – ha ha — who knows?

        Liked by 1 person

  3. exiledprospero September 15, 2015 / 1:43 pm

    Dogs figured this thing out long ago. I think the breakthrough came in the mid 1940s, at the gospelly time of Sister Rosetta’s chart-topping hit, quite coincidentally. Now they worship the sundial. They also like snacks–nothing too elaborate, shrimp ceviche, for example. And they know it’s time their T-bone steak when the light reaches this or that temperature in glorious degrees Kelvin. It’s either that or the timing of the rattle of our best pots and pans. I’m rather conflicted on this, though I remind myself that Pavlov preceded Sister Rosetta by some years.

    Liked by 2 people

    • redosue September 15, 2015 / 5:32 pm

      I knew I was secretly a dog when you mentioned shrimp ceviche and started panting. Your comments never fail to bring a surreal perspective to the conversation.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Shelley Page September 15, 2015 / 4:44 pm

    Nice and vivid….and it made me wonder if I could tell what kind of person you are by what food is around your sundial?

    Liked by 1 person

    • redosue September 15, 2015 / 5:30 pm

      Oh my god, no! I didn’t mention buttertarts, or nachos or wine or ribs or smoked salmon or … really, please, don’t judge me by the clock!

      Liked by 1 person

  5. J.B. Whitmore September 16, 2015 / 12:40 am

    Dear Sundial, This is the sweetest I’m-recovering blog post ever. As the spouse of a newly-retired husband, raising my teacup to you. Sounds like you know how to heal. Best wishes for best-ever post surgery snacks.

    Liked by 1 person

    • redosue September 16, 2015 / 11:29 am

      I am indeed, Derrick. Walking around the house more or less unsupported. Getting out to my physiotherapy appointments with my chauffeur (aka my husband who is also the butler). Coming along nicely!

      Liked by 1 person

      • derrickjknight September 16, 2015 / 5:12 pm

        Good. I hope there is also less pain


  6. Ellen Morris Prewitt September 21, 2015 / 9:30 pm

    As I recovered, I memorized the lines of the painting across from my bed, a man wearing a very pointed lapel jacket and playing a sax. I think I could draw it from memory. What I’m saying: it was a windowless room. I envy your sun. 🙂 Huge congrats on walking around.


  7. Rosanna September 22, 2015 / 4:02 am

    Eating is not a favorite activity. But I suppose when you’re recovering from surgery it will do you well to eat more often. Get well soon, Sue. Hope you’ll be jumping again soon.


    • redosue September 22, 2015 / 7:21 am

      Haha! Jumping! In my dreams I’m a gazelle but in truth I’m more like a wounded frog looking longingly at the lily pad beside me thinking “It’s greener over there.”

      Liked by 1 person

  8. D. Wallace Peach September 25, 2015 / 3:29 pm

    It’s interesting how the sense of time shifts when one isn’t tied to the minute hand. Enjoy the experience of letting your life follow the natural rhythms for a while. And get well soon.


  9. Luanne October 7, 2015 / 12:31 am

    So funny about the hubster! I take it you’re recovering well?


    • Susanne October 7, 2015 / 5:09 pm

      Recovering nicely and back to work full-time. Life is good.

      Liked by 1 person

  10. hilarycustancegreen October 10, 2015 / 5:00 am

    Apart from the knee surgery, from which I hope you have now made a good recovery, this post made me smile and smile. Your unscheduled time is temporary, but you are tasting the temporal confusion that happens in retirement. I love your sundial garden and should learn from it. We are both retired but I am often overwhelmed by the freedom to do all the things I want (as well as the washing, cooking, housework etc) and the, essentially happy, realisation that there are more things to do than fit in 24 hours a day.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Susanne October 10, 2015 / 7:41 am

      After a about 10 days post-op I got into a groove. I spent most mornings writing or reading about writing and then in the afternoon I sat in a lounge chair outside enjoying the September sun. Now I’m back to work and feeling nostalgic about that free time. Funny, Hilary, my newly retired husband doesn’t seem plagued by the overwhelming freedom to do all the things I want him to do. He’s quite content to read, hike, bike, ski, and send e-mail missives off to friends.

      Your garden is certainly benefiting from your freedom and attention!

      Liked by 1 person

    • Susanne October 1, 2016 / 10:44 am

      Yay! I love making people laugh. Thanks for the compliment, Marlene.

      Liked by 1 person

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