I have always been attracted to the idea of yoga. Calming mediation, spirituality, plus the physical benefits seem like a wonderful combination. Several decades ago, I signed up for a local school’s adult education class in yoga. I went once. First of all, I have a bad knee and couldn’t do many of poses. Secondly, and perhaps most importantly, I was with older women who couldn’t wait to try “this yogurt stuff.” Seriously. There was no mental inclusion, just twisting into pretzel shapes. I was in the wrong venue.

Now I am an older woman myself. I’ve wanted to try yoga again. I want to be centered.

I bought a yoga mat.

I bought a yoga DVD.

I bought books about yoga and writing.

  But DVD wouldn’t play in the player in my bedroom. There was no room to roll out my yoga mat in the family room.

Then I bought a new lap top computer. The DVD plays in the computer, so I tried  doing yoga in my living room. There was enough room to roll out my mat, but that was about all.

I’m not a fan of exercise. I do wonder if I’m more attracted to the idea of yoga than actually practicing it.

We’ll find out soon. I “reclaimed” my home office.  There is now plenty of space for yoga practice.

 We’ll see how it goes.

“A garden must combine the poetic and the mysterious with a feeling of serenity and joy.” Luis Barragan

Turns out one of our neighbors does landscaping. “What do you want?” he asked.

A good question with many answers.

• Low maintenance
• a container garden
• an herb garden
• a meditation garden
• lawn
• someplace to sit in privacy and write
• Did we mention low maintenance?
• Oh, and could we extend the patio with pavers?

First step: remove the sand and gravel that housed the pool for so many years.

Then he put in a low wall of flat rocks–shale, I think.

Yes, we’re going to keep those bushes–cypress? cedar? They hid the base of the pool; now they’ll provide privacy from the street. He brought over some plants. And yes, my maple tree had to go: chlorine poisoning, we were told. It was slowly dying. The stump is visible in the first photo below.

Turns out autumn is the best time to plant grass. Who knew?

To be continued . . .

I was home sick with a sinus infection a couple of afternoons this past week. Every time I started to doze, the telephone rang (or TV Stevie came home with a treat for me). And not a single one of the calls was an actual call. but rather was a solicitation from a stranger, and more often than not in the form of a robo call.

I am on the national “Do Not Call” list. In fact, I just checked to make sure my telephone numbers are still registered. They are. But, according the the website: “Political solicitations are not covered by the TSR at all, since they are not included in its definition of “telemarketing.” Charities are not covered by the requirements of the national registry.” And that sucks. A lot of scammers pretend to be charities and wake me up. Or interrupt my viewing of The Roosevelts. Or my writing.

Some people suggest checking caller ID before answering the phone. Caller ID does not miraculously prevent the phone from ringing in the first place. And that’s what prevents me from napping. Or watching TV. Or writing, reading, cooking dinner, or meditating. And this past week was sunny. And one of my definitions of heaven is napping on the living room sofa with the sun on my face.

I pay a telephone bill for my convenience, not some solicitor’s sales quota. There is something inherently wrong about paying to be disturbed by unwanted calls. Yet we keep the land line because so many places with which we do business require a telephone number, and we are not about to give out our cell numbers so they, too, can be sold to more business to annoy us.

The only people I want calling me are my husband, children, parents, siblings, nieces/nephews, publisher(s), potential agents, and my physician’s office to tell me yes, the doctor will write a script for meds for my sinus infection, and my pharmacy to say, “Your prescription is ready for pick up.”