digital detox

In today's electronic world, unplugging helps you step away from the nonstop flood of information and reconnect with yourself, the people you care about, and what’s actually happening around you. Taking a break from screens gives your mind and body a chance to recharge, which can boost your mood, overall well-being, and quality of life.

Shutting off your devices also gives your brain a break from all the noise online. Kick back after a long day of screen time. Once you’ve had that reset, it’s easier to focus, make decisions, and think more creatively.

And how do you do that? Get outside, away from those walls that surround you, move, and breathe in that fresh air!

One of the best ways for me to digitally detox...hang out with my grandchildren!  The time with them is so precious and seeing the world through their eyes sure does keep me smiling and laughing 😁 

what's in a name?

Yesterday, The New York Times shared a fun link that lets you spell out your name using images shaped by Earth’s geography, all drawn from satellite views. It’s a reminder that even something as familiar as your own name can feel new again.

There’s something enjoyable about seeing your name out in the world. When you're in a souvenir shop, do you find yourself hanging around those racks of license plate keychains looking for your name? I do. Then I hunt for my husband's name, my children’s names, their spouses’, and my grandchildren’s. Even though I never buy one, the search itself is satisfying. It's a frivolous little hunt where the prize is recognition. And now, to see my name in geological forms from a NASA website...well that's downright cool! 

When your name shows up, hover the cursor over each image and its location will appear. 

D - Lake Tandou, Australia

I - Borgarbyggð, Iceland

A - Yukon Delta, Alaska

N - São Miguel do Araguaia, Brazil

E - Fern-filled Fjords, Tibet

the friday feed: lahmas of love

That vertigo episode drained me more than I expected. Hospitals aren’t built for real rest. The nurses were attentive and thorough, waking me every two hours with their steady refrain: “Name. Date of birth. What month is it? What year? Do you know where you are?” I got the routine, but sleep never quite had a chance to settle in. Still, I was fortunate - it was only a one-night stay.

When I finally got home, I went straight to bed and sank into a deep three-hour nap. I woke to the sound of my phone. It was my friend.

“Di, I made some lahmas. Can I bring them over?”

“Yes, please!”

Lahmas, pronounced “lock-mas,” are often called Arabic pizzas. They are made with thinly rolled dough topped with a savory meat mixture. She had cooked them; all I needed to do was warm them in the microwave for 30 seconds. The food, along with the visit, was the best medicine.

poetry month: growing old

It happens...

Today ends Poetry Month and tomorrow we say "Hello!" to May. 

 

wednesday's words and wanderings and wonderings

Last week was a quiet week with a couple days in the hospital for a vertigo diagnosis. This cute little elephant greeted me on the bedside table in my hospital room. Do you think it looks like an elephant or another creature? 

It looks like I'm going to plant some carrots this year. This artsy packaging of carrots caught my eye but so did the name, Danvers Carrot. My mom was born and raised in Danvers, Illinois, and that is the main reason I bought this. I hope some of her green thumb will pass through my fingers to grow a bounty of carrots this summer. 

A Google search provided this information: "The Danvers carrot is a classic, hardy heirloom Carrot developed in the 1870 in Danvers, Massachusetts, known for its deep orange color, high yields, and adaptability to clay soils. It typically produces 6-8 inch tapered roots that are sweet and nearly coreless." 

My neighbor's mom passed away this week. Susan loves flowers - you should see her garden! To express our condolences I went to a florist in McPherson Town, one of Dayton's historic neighborhoods, for a bouquet of flowers. When we lived downtown, my big dog Ted and I frequently strolled past this small business. Look toward the back of the photo and you will see the Dayton Art Institute. After buying the flowers, I stopped by DAI to renew our museum membership.

My first grandchild is no longer in his crib and to celebrate this milestone, I want to make a small quilt for him. A long time ago, in the late 70s and into the 80s, quilting was popular, and I spent a lot of time with this hobby. I have a lot of fabric from back in those days and it's time to reduce the stash. Owen's favorite colors are green and red (I am adding blue to keep it from looking like a Christmas quilt), his birthday is in June, but for the time it will take to piece the blocks and get it quilted, this will be a Christmas present.

The lilac beside the garage door has been in full bloom and scenting the air for a few weeks now. It's such a joy to get a whiff of that fragrance when walking outside. I took this photo last Friday and in that short time, flowers are just about gone. Between late April and early May lilac trees and bushes typically bloom for three weeks in Ohio (they did) but they bloomed early this year and now mine are done for their season. Sigh.

the big and small of things

Costco. The bastion of bulk. The place where “just grabbing one thing” doesn’t happen. Shopping trips balloon into a cart full of super-sized decisions. The building itself is massive, somewhere in that 146,000–147,000 square-foot range. Does it have its own zip code?

Nothing here in moderation. Toilet paper? Not six rolls, but a commitment of 30 rolls. Chicken thighs arrive in six packages with 4-5 thighs in each. Pepsi shows up in a 36-pack, beer in a 30. You get the picture. Everything is BIG.

The other day I went in to pick up a pair of glasses. No large cart, no filling-the-cargo-hold ambitions. I pulled into a parking spot and imagine my surprise to see the cutest, TINY Miata in the space next to mine. A toy-sized car in the land of bulk excess. I laughed out loud.

The front seat area is big enough for me and my purse. A package of toilet paper would barely fit in the trunk. I was tempted to wait around, just to see what kind of purchases pair with a car that small in a place that large.

monday's mulling...vertigo - oh - oh - oh - my!

Dizzy

I'm so dizzy, my head is spinning

Like a whirlpool, it never ends

And it's VERTIGO, making it spin

You're making me dizzy…

Last Tuesday evening, my world began to spin and it just would not stop. I went to bed hoping and praying that by morning it would pass. It didn’t.

Todd was out of town, so around noon I called my son and asked him to take me to the hospital. I had never experienced anything like this, and it was frightening.

At the hospital, it was a blur of questions and tests. “Keep your eyes on my finger… follow it.” My eyes felt like they were bouncing every which way. Then came the blood draws, the CAT scan, the MRI. “Take these pills with thickened apple juice.” Yuck. I had been placed on stroke protocol, and the whole experience felt surreal. My head was a whirling dervish.

By the next morning, the dizziness had eased, but I still needed to be evaluated by physical, occupational, and speech therapists before I could be discharged. As overwhelming as it all was, I truly appreciated how thorough the care team was.

In the end, the diagnosis was “just” vertigo. No stroke. No brain tumor. No invasions from outer space aliens. Just vertigo. And for that, I am incredibly thankful.