Peg Kerr's Journal

This card is a continuation of last's week's preoccupation. I have been out and about at consignment and thrift stores and I have already had some successes. Here are the chair and little side table that I have put in a corner of my bedroom (got the chair at Empty the Nest and the table/lamp at a little thrift store close to my home called Groovy's. Together the chair and table were about $100.00, which gives me all the thrill and satisfaction of being a savvy shopper). I plan to recover the lampshade, perhaps with a William Morris print, and to start collecting picture frames at thrift stores. I'll hang a gallery of artwork in that corner.

I also scored three decorative plates for 73 cents each. They now hang in my kitchen, where they complement the colors beautifully.

Border: A gilded picture frame. Background: semi-transparent William Morris print (Seaweed). Center: an armchair upholstered in a neutral textured fabric with a greenish-gray tinge. A William Morris pillow sits on the armchair and a small oval table with a built-in lamp beside it. Above the chair are three decorative plates in shades of orange, yellow, and brown, showing cups of steaming coffee, titled 'Espresso,' 'Cappucino' and 'Macchiato.'

Thrifting



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Unlike the rest of the country, which has been roasting under a heat wave, we here in Minneapolis have been experiencing an unusual amount of rain. The result for the vegetable garden has been mixed: the kale and Swiss chard are happy, the basil is miserable, and the tomatoes are sulking. The news is filled with stories of farmers struggling with floods in the fields and rivers overflowing their banks.

On the other hand, my lawn has never looked better. And I haven't had to water it once.

Oddly enough, despite the rain, and despite the fact that I live about as far from the oceans as one can in all directions, I have been thinking about low tides.

As I mentioned in my previous entry, I fell ill last week. Not Covid, fortunately, but this cold was a doozy, and it pulled me down terribly. I cancelled every single plan I had last weekend. I had hoped to get out of the house on my wedding anniversary on Friday the 5th, just to do something fun to distract my thoughts. Instead, I lay in bed, coughing and miserable. The dishes piled up and used Kleenexes were scattered everywhere. I cancelled my usual walk with friends, and when I tried to go out on my own, I only managed to get around one block. My lung capacity suffered when I had Covid last December, and the asthma season this spring has been worse than usual. I have been trying to build my lung capacity back up again, and now I feel as though I am back at my lowest point.

I made a collage about the cold, but I was entirely dissatisfied with it. It seemed so obvious: a blanket scattered with Kleenexes, a thermometer, a bottle of Dayquil. This is my second attempt, and is more about the concept of lowness that has followed the cold.

I find it objectionable and boring to hear people whinge about their health. Sorry. It really has been what has been preoccupying me for at least a week.

A boat sits on sand, beached at low tide. Foreground: dirty pots and pans. Used Kleenexes lie scattered on the sand around the boat.

Low



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I took last week off work and continued my personal project to investigate things I am not familiar with in my city. Wednesday was Juneteenth, and after seeing an ad on Facebook, I decided to go to see Fort Snelling because they were doing a special tour for Juneteenth about the history of slavery at the Fort.

I am glad I went. The interpreters were friendly and very willing to answer all my questions. I had a long talk with one about the sorts of things imported from St. Louis, Missouri for the general store, and with another about 19th and early 20th-century medical technology. The tour included a lot of information about Dred Scott, whose stay at the Fort resulted in probably the worst Supreme Court decision of all time. The Court decided that African-Americans had no rights that anyone need respect, a decision that eventually led to the Civil War.

One of the most moving displays was the table set in the Fort commander's house. Each plate bore the name of a slave who had been forced to work at the fort, in a territory and later a state which was supposedly free. The interpreter explained out the US Army helped subsidize slavery, paying officers a per diem for 'servants' who were actually slaves, making it easy for the masters to pocket the difference.

Very interesting, and very glad I went. The museum at the visitor center was excellent, too, and I think did a great job of illuminating the history of the Fort while including the painful stories of the African-American and Native American experiences to which it was tied.

Image description: A view of Fort Snelling from a distance with a title "Juneteenth: Freedom Day" displayed in the sky over the fort. Center: A dining table set with a tablecloth and plates. Lower center: a closeup of one of the plates, with the name of a slave, "Jane Glasgow," with the name of her master (Zachary Taylor) underneath with a date: May 1828 - July 1829. Lower right corner: a laundress pounds clothes in a washtub. Behind her is a cavalry saddle. Lower left: an outstretched hand holds a few clarinet keys (replicas of artifacts found by archeologists behind the quarters that housed the military band). Behind it: a Civil War Union uniform.

Juneteenth



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This week, both theme-wise and visually, is a follow up to last week's card, Arthritis. As I've been doing physical therapy on my hand, I've also been thinking a lot about the aging of my body in general. My foot has been hurting, where I broke my toe and had arthritis flare last summer. My joints in general feel stiff and tight, and I KNOW I should be doing weight-lifting. Frankly, I hate it, and it's hard to make myself do it.

As the same time, work is going through a weird time. We have a new bishop-elect, but she hasn't started yet. A couple of my coworkers have already found new jobs and it is very probable that more will follow. We had lunch with the bishop-elect, and to our relief, she said she isn't going to be making staff changes immediately. But I know changes are coming. I have to think about what I want (and will learn what is possible) with the knowledge that my 65th birthday is coming up next year. What about retirement? I have to research Social Security, which is extra complicated by the fact that my work situation could unexpectedly change, and I'm already drawing social security benefits. Figuring this all out, with factors outside my control, will be tricky. But I can't ignore the situation. My life is going to change, whether I like it or not, and that will be uncomfortable.

In the middle of thinking about all of this, I ran across a video by a motivational speaker that I'm been pondering ever since. He was saying that discomfort is something that you need to learn to tolerate and even embrace, because when you are uncomfortable, that is when you make the most life-satisfying changes.

I've been thinking about that, and I've realized it is true. I got a black belt in karate because I was willing to go to class and do a million slow kicks and sweat and work hard. I even got a concussion from sparring. At our final black belt exam, our instructor told us, "Think back to your first white belt class, and how many other people were there. Think of how many of them have fallen away for one reason or another. You are the few, the very few, who stuck it out. And you are the ones who will be getting a black belt today."

Writing a novel is like that, too. I am not one of the ones for whom writing is effortless. I have to tolerate discomfort of the uncertainty, the blundering about trying to figure out a plot, the hours spent in front of a keyboard. But I have two novels published, and I'm about to pass 40,000 words on my third.

I will have to ramp up the exercise program again. Do the mobility stuff, do the weight lifting stuff. I have to figure out what my work life will be like under all of these changes, and if that isn't meant to be, what my retirement will be like. It is ironic that as a species, we are wired to seek comfort. We want to be warm, and fed, and to cuddle with our mates and to have no troubles or worries. But that is not what is best for us.

Boats are safest anchored in sheltered harbors. But that is not what boats are for.

I initially thought to start the image with a bed of nails, but I couldn't find an image like that in the public domain, and so I decided to make it a bed of brambles instead.

Image description: Bottom of the card: dry, cracked earth overlaid with brambles with sharp thorns. Card center: a bronze statue of a woman lying on her side. Behind and above her is a lush flower garden.

Uncomfortable



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Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.

Because my daughters and my daughter-in-law are the BEST, they gave me tickets to the Guthrie's 3-play run of Shakespeare's history plays for my birthday. Fiona went with me, and it was HUGELY enjoyable. I went to the cycle in 1990, and comparing the two production runs was extremely interesting. I was so glad to share the experience with Fiona and so very grateful!

Image description: Three kings in Shakespeare's history plays, each holding a crown: left to right: Richard II, Henry IV, Henry V. Lower half: the entire Guthrie cast of the history plays, looking forward: Lower center: the crown sits on the floor, spotlit from above.'

History Plays



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It's that time of year: I have been to the garden store and spent much too much money. I'm not finished putting everything in, but things are shaping up nicely.

I rather like the way the color scheme of this one turned out.

Image description: The collage shows a variety of flowers: lower left: a white box planted with petunias. Lower right: a blue pot planted with pink and red geraniums. Center background: purple lobelia. Upper left: a large pink petunia blossom. Upper right: a bright blue watering can tilts toward the petunia flower box.

Garden



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Again, I'm doing this card a little early, as I will be away for a three-day work event this weekend.

One of the sentences that came up in my Scottish Gaelic practice in Duolingo this week was the sentence: 'S e mo cha-là-breith a th' ann!' (which means 'It's my birthday')

This was entirely apropos because it was, in fact, my 64th birthday. And it was an entirely lovely one.

I wore one of my favorite necklaces to note the occasion and met Fiona for brunch. Afterward, we went to browse around the newly open Tropes & Trifles bookstore. Later in the afternoon, I met my mom and sisters for coffee.

I was quite delighted with the gifts my family gave me. Fiona, Alona, and Delia gave me a lovely floaty wisp of a thing printed with irises, and the promise of tickets to the Guthrie's Shakespeare history play cycle: Richard II, Henry IV, and Henry V. My sisters gave me a couple of new plants for my collection and a loaf of Betsy's homemade sourdough bread. I can assure you that it is entirely delicious.

Thanks to everyone who helped to make my birthday an entirely delightful day.

Frame: a multistrand glass bead necklace. Upper center: a cartoon bear with a thought bubble that reads 'S e mo cha-là-breith a th' ann!' (Scottish Gaelic for 'It's my birthday'). Over the thought bubble are superimposed the words "Richard II," "Henry IV," and "Henry V." Center: a cup with a coffee latte with a currant scone. Lower right corner: two plants and a package wrapped in a dishtowel. Lower left: several semi-transparent figures of a woman (Peg) with a non-transparent picture of Peg on top, wearing a floaty scarf poncho, printed with irises.

Birthday



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I'm doing my collage early this week because I will be away from my computer all day Friday.

I met with my financial planner, thinking about the changes coming due to the election of the new bishop (who will be my new boss) the first week of May. I wanted to find out what my options would be.

I was pleased to learn that it would be entirely possible for me to retire if I like a year from now when I turn 65. So now I have to think about that. What would retiring be like?

I based the design of this collage on the Norman Rockwell painting 'Blank Canvas,' a similarity that amuses me:



Image description: A woman (Peg) sits with her back toward the camera, her right hand on her head as if in confusion, contemplating a large framed picture on a table. On the picture, the word 'Retirement' is wrapped around a sunset. Scattered on the picture are phrases: 'Travel?' 'Where will I live?' 'What will I do?'

Envisioning



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I honestly thought I would never get out of Chapter 8 alive. I have been trying to fight my way through it for MONTHS.

With each book, I have had at least one chapter where everything screeched to a stop, and I had no idea why. The odd thing was that looking back at those chapters now, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with them, nor is there any hint of whatever-it-was that made everything grind to a halt.

But this collage celebrates that I finally finished the fricking chapter (it ended, literally, with a spectacular explosion of magical fireworks) and sent it off to my writing group.

They judged it a breathtaking success and are gratifyingly agog to find out what happens next.

This was a fun collage to make. It has four separate layers, and I'm pleased that I continue to improve my technical skills.

Image description: A woman (Peg) faces the camera, seated in a wing chair in a living room, looking at the screen of her open laptop. Fireworks shooting out of the laptop screen wash over her face, but rather than looking perturbed, she looks rather pleased with herself.

New Chapter



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I had a hard time thinking of what this week's collage should be about because, on the surface, nothing much happened. I went to even fewer places than I usually do: I didn't go to Gigi's Cafe on Thursday night. I didn't go to church for Lenten supper on Wednesday or to services on Sunday. I exercised very little.

Frankly, all I wanted to do was to lie on the couch and read. No, 'wanted' is an insufficient term to describe the feeling. It was an overwhelming urge.

I checked my Goodreads stats: as of today, I've read 83 books, 25,000 pages, since January 1.

I mean, I read a lot. I know that. But...that seems like A LOT.

This is the fourth year that I've been doing this collage project, and as I was trying to come up with the subject of the week, out of curiosity, I went back and checked previous years. Interestingly, I seemed to be in a very similar state of mind at this point of the year for the past two years. Torporish. Insular. Inward-looking. Perhaps slightly depressed, and channeling all my attention to reading.

It's helpful to know that I have emerged from it in the past. Doubtless, I will emerge from it again.

It wasn't until I finished the card that I realized that this was another nautically-themed collage. For the fourth week, when talking about grief, I wrote about Shipwreck.

This card is about the doldrums, the term that sailors use for a portion of the sea around the equator where ships can get stuck for weeks at a time. The sea currents and the winds stop, and ships simply drift in the becalmed waters. Sailors have to bear the boredom (and sometimes a slowly growing unease, due to the fear that they might be stuck there so long their water and food supplies will run out).

What I learned doing this collage: I was dissatisfied with my first attempt, because the color of the three elements I used in it (the sea, the book, and the woman) didn't look as if they went together. One was blue, one was yellowish, and one was brown-tinted. I tinkered with the color balance of the book and the women, but I couldn't quite figure out the process of adjusting color through the photo editor on my computer.

But then it occurred to me to identify the colors of the sea image with an online hex picker tool and then use another online tool to adjust the color tints in the other two images to match. I'm pleased with the results.

Image description: Background: a blurred surface of the sea. Foreground: over it floats an open book. In the center of the book, over the spine, a figure of a woman sleeps in clouds, as if emerging from the book. Lower center over the book is another woman, in the same blue tints as the sea, again, lying on her side with her eyes closed, dreaming, cushioned by clouds.

Doldrums



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