Getting Comfortable
At The Old Stone House
I find these days I am making life as comfortable as possible. I come downstairs in the morning, put on water for my tea, and sit in my chair. There I proceed to put on my make up and get dressed. No matter how bad I feel, I always put on my makeup. These days I brush my hair and leave it long and loose. I only wear it up when I go out. It is just too much trouble pinning it up on top of my head. I now wear only my most comfortable clothes. I can't stand anything tight across my chest (it restricts my breathing) ------------
so, now I go bra-less. Now in my youth I think I would be called daring, but today, at age 62, I think the word might be laughable.
    
I notice another strange thing that I have been doing lately. I have a comfortable chair that I retreat to when my rheumatoid arthritis acts up or my COPD gets me down. Next to my chair is a table with pill bottles, inhalers, and makeup. On my other side I use to have a snack tray with important things, nebulizer, oximeter and etc. Well, I seem to be gathering my things around me. My husband has added a 3 shelf bookcase in place of the snack tray. Now I have room for my notepad, journal, books I am reading, a towel, a change of clothes, just to name a few. I have seen this gathering of things before, once when my father was ill and again with my mother.
    
I try to do as much as I can during the day. I don't want to retreat to my comfortable chair permanently (not yet, anyway!) But these are just a
few of the things that help make my life a little easier and more comfortable.
    
At night I put on my comfy flannel nightgown and my warm slippers. It gets cold at night in the old stone house even with our (electric) wood burning
stove. Upstairs I can hear my son laughing and chasing his bride down the hallway. I fondly remember what it was like to be young and in love. I also fondly remember what it was like to run! My husband is in his room oblivious to their laughter, watching his favorite TV show. Downstairs, I am in my chair,my
granddaughter is doing her homework. I miss my cat  on my lap ( she had to leave when my daughter-in-law moved in) Now my granddaughter puts her pet guinea pig, Tallulah on my chest and I close my eyes and try to pretend she is a cat. She doesn't purr, but she makes cute little squeaky noises.
    
Outside the wind is blowing, some of the trees out there are as old as the house. It looks like it might snow tomorrow, but tonight all is peaceful and
comfortable at the old stone house.

Tish
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