Note about nameage — which I’m pretty sure is not a word: Before our granddaughter was born, my husband and I were trying to decide what we wanted to be called. There are so many varieties of grandmother and grandfather. Eventually we arrived at a reasonable solution. Let our granddaughter decide by waiting to see what variation or cute pronunciation she would come upon. But prior to reaching that wise conclusion, we came up with some silly stuff. At one point he said she should call me Cuddles (because, he said, I’m very cuddly). I asked what she should call him if I was going to be Cuddles. He replied, “She can call me Zeke” (said in a very serious, deep-voiced tone that cracked me up and had me almost rolling on the floor laughing).

So, I’ve decided that instead of referring to my husband as “M the Elder” (which I’ve never really liked because I don’t see him as old or elder except in the sense that he’s always been, to me,  an old soul wise enough to be called an elder and I’ve just realized that trying to explain this doesn’t make sense so, please, just go with it), I will call him Zeke. Because it’s fun. Because it’s become a term of endearment. Because he’s fun and dear to me.

*****

Zeke and I worked outside for a while today. He was out there longer than I was because he’s in better shape and has the strength to stay out there for hours at a time. I wimp out after a couple of hours.

I sometimes whine a little about hard labor. Rather than do that, I thought I’d try something new.

Today I enjoyed:

• the feel of my hands in the dirt, becoming, at the same time, energized and grounded by Mother Earth.
• the smell of the earth before and after the rain showers.
• watching a butterfly flit through the wildflower meadow.
• the strength of my body as it worked, knowing that the hard work makes me stronger and healthier.
• the feel of my muscles in motion.
• listening to Zeke and M the Younger do their usual bickering routine as they were walking down the hill. Sometimes father and son sound like a couple of grumpy old men, debating the best way to do whatever it is they’ve set out to do.
• dancing in the rain as it cooled and refreshed me.
• the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance.
• the sound of the wind and trees whispering to each other.
• the sight of an amazing variety of greens in the landscape.
• the buzzing of a nearby bee.
• the process of weeding and seeing a job well done when I finished.
• running my hands through the mulch and placing it around the plants.
• talking to the lavender and having it respond with its wonderful scent.
• sweating.
• the feel of the sun.
• the cooling breeze that I could feel when I got up from kneeling on the ground.
• a tall glass of iced tea, condensation running down the sides and dripping on to me.
• watching the swallows take quick dips in the pond.
• the sound and ripples of fish jumping.
• the gratitude I feel when I look around at the beauty that surrounds us.
• the joy I feel from that gratitude and beauty.
• a long shower, with good water pressure, and sluicing off the dirt and sweat of the day.
• the wonderful feeling of relaxation and exhaustion that overcomes you when you’ve spent the day outside, breathing in fresh air and exercising.
• the taste of food when you’ve worked up a good appetite.
• spending the day in love and with love.
• the good night’s sleep I know I’m going to get tonight.

*****

(Sunset by the pond. Photo by Robin.)

I am convinced that life in a physical body is meant to be an ecstatic experience. ~ Shakti Gawain