A Day In the Life

I just read an article titled “So You Think You’re Happy” that suggests certain activities that might promote a sense of wellbeing or contentedness with one’s life. 

One of the suggestions is to write a “day in the life” blog post as a series, which strikes me as just the thing. My life is fairly ho hum, so I have plenty of material for slice of life posts. Maybe I’ll learn to appreciate my quiet existence if I write about my days.

Lately I’ve been staying in bed until around 8:30 or 9:00 am, long enough for mediation and breathing to ease the anxiety. I lie on my side and look out the window for a while, and then I sit up and meditate in bed. I feel grateful for working part-time, which gives me the flexibility to work on my mental health at my leisure. 

The next step is to let the dogs out into our wooded, fenced backyard. Today S.A. did that job, which was nice for a change. I made coffee, sat in a chair near the sunny living room window, and read news articles for an hour.

In the afternoon I took Red for a six-mile hike at a local park. It was fun at first, but he kept tugging on the leash and wanting to sniff every single dog we passed. 

I suppose it wouldn’t have been too draining except I just had minor surgery yesterday for a skin cancer lesion, and I was in some pain still from the incision. Next time I’ll probably leave Red at home and do my usual hike with trekking poles. Today when we were going down some rocks, he pulled on the leash and I landed on my rump. Plus, I scraped my hand.

S.A. has been making dinner every Wednesday night, which I so appreciate. Tonight it was cod with spinach and lemon sauce served with zucchini and tomatoes baked in the oven with avocado oil. It was doubly delicious because he made it AND cleaned up.

While he was cooking, I headed to my office and wrote 500 words of the travelogue I’m working on. Usually, I try to write more, but I was wiped out from the hike up the mountain, even after resting for a half an hour. 

So, those were the highlights of my day, besides the ever-enlightening conversations I had with my sons and the books I’ve been reading. My daily wish is to gain insights and to better understand the people I love.

   
 

Red Holiday

Red got into the dog biscuits and then spit up on our comforter. I washed the comforter, but it still smells like barf. Good thing I bought it on sale with a coupon!

He also chewed up my yoga mat while I was in the room with him. I was writing, or on Facebook, some kind of nonsense.

We’ve replaced the space heater whose cord he chewed. My meditation cushion is covered with dog hair. He has dug two giant holes in the yard and has tracked the dirt onto the living room rug.

He barks whenever Duffy is on my lap.

He barks a throaty, deep roar whenever Duffy yaps at the UPS drivers.

Of course there’s a “but” in this post.

But he’s just amazed to find out each day that he’s a dog. Life perplexes him, and he yelps in response. He prances like a pony in a field when I come up the stairs.

Sean just found a sock Red nabbed.

Red Jaw

The vet has ordered a month’s course of antibiotics to cure the infection in Red’s mandible.  The abscess, which had grown to the size of a toddler’s fist, is now as large as a peach pit.

When I was at the animal hospital I met a woman who runs a mutt rescue operation. She showed me before and after photos of dogs whose previous owners had let the dogs’ diseases run amok.

Frozen Socks and Eliot

The frozen socks have been a big hit with Red and Duffy. They chew on the knotted socks until the socks thaw, and then they play tug-of-war with them.

This morning they ran in circles through the kitchen, living room, and dining room, and now they’ve gone to their separate corners to chew on fresh, frozen socks.

With the house now quiet and the world calm, I’ll return to reading Eliot’s 1920 Poems. Randy Malamud’s critical introduction to The Wasteland and Other Poems has been big help in my understanding of the collection. There are so many seemingly random allusions that I was scratching my head in bewilderment.

I’m thinking of writing my research paper about this question: does the anti-semitism in Eliot’s poems contradict his application of Buddhist philosophy?

What would Red and Duffy say? They’d probably tell me to stop running in circles, chew on a frozen sock, and then take a nap.