Another Language

I actually have been thinking of this  subject for quite a while now, almost a year.  The time keeps flying by.

There are two languages I would like to wake up tomorrow and be fluent in.  I intend to pursue both in my own slow time bordering on procrastination because I know it will be a journey not an aha moment.

I took 3 years of Spanish in high school and did well at it.  I remember nothing.  I tried again as I entered crone-dom in college.  I didn’t have time.  I tried again last year on-line but the main lessons were streamed video, and I alas, was still on dial up internet.  I couldn’t even get into sites with more than a few graphics let alone something streaming.  So I didn’t get far.  Now I have finally found fast internet.  I am overjoyed.  And I will definitely began once more.

All of my paternal lineage comes from the Azore Islands to Provincetown, Massachusetts.  I also want to learn Portuguese.  I am obsessed with tracking down my Azorean heritage.  I can get as far back as the arrival in America in the 1800’s but I want to go back and study the Islands.  I can vaguely hear my Grandparents arguing in Portuguese so the children wouldn’t hear them (I guess they didn’t think their tone of voice gave us the gist and taught us some prime swear words in another language we could try out at school).  Another goal of mine is to get the family tree down on paper for my grandchildren.  When my grandmother spoke of her family and relatives back on the islands I never thought I would forget.  I did.  And it is now lost.  As my cousin pointed out, I am now the oldest living female on that side of the family, so I would like to record all I find this time.

Crone time gives you the freedom to do these things you’ve put off.  Many may say it is too late.  It is never too late to love yourself and do what you want despite what everyone else thinks.

This time I think I have all the tools in place to achieve these dreams.  Portuguese and Spanish are similar enough that learning one should help with the other, but it sure would be a boon if I just woke up tomorrow and I was fluently speaking both.

Azores_old_map               Açores



daily post challenge



I first tried Facebook pages to work on my new journey of putting my thoughts
somewhere other than my head. It didn’t feel right for a number of reasons.
Then I found WordPress. It felt right. Before blogging I was very into developing
various web pages for selling my hand crafts. Blogs seemed the next step for my mind
I started with to record the antics of our little group of gardeners and our experimental garden. Since it is basically facts with a little embellishment
for interest or to express my excitement, I felt safe and not too out there with my “self”.
Then I decided it was time to to start another on Croneing.  Be a little more wild.  Step out there even though I might get stepped on.
You are right – “Because it’s an idea you were so passionate about, it motivated you to begin
this new project — there’s something to that.”   I always wanted to be a wife and mother.
I loved being a wife and mother for many years. Unfortunately, I did so well at it that they
are all off living their live’s quite well. This left me free of all those responsibilities
and the beginning of a new life to create.
Of course, me being me since childhood, I don’t necessarily follow others footsteps. I seem
to not even take the “road less travelled”. No, I get out the machete and go for
trailblazing. And damn, there are a lot of thorns.
So, as I hope to crone, and grow, and create, and just explore, this second blog will be
the place to right some of it down. I’ve lived a lot of great stories so far and haven’t
written them down and they are beginning to float away.
What do I hope to accomplish through this? Other peoples words often hit a chord in me and
help me decide which direction I want to turn, maybe my words might ring true to someone
behind me.  Or maybe my grandchildren’s grandchildren might be interested in an odd woman’s
I do feel like I have accomplished something. I have quit thinking about it and started
blogging. Wherever it takes me, however well or pathetic I do, I have begun.


Day 3

write the post that was on your mind when you decided to start a blog

Confessions of a Hoarder

Recycler?  Being Frugal?  Saving for a Rainy Day?


Many times I find myself unable to throw something away.  Yesterday I was cutting fabric.  It was an old wool sweater that someone had obviously shrunk in the dryer.  They must have added it to the goodwill bag.  A friend who makes wonderful felted items found it, took it home to add to her stash of wonderful things.  She moved.

Before she left she brought boxes of not moving with but still good stuff for our knitting/spinning group to rescue.  Any already felted wool is coveted – less work (don’t have to shrink it first), frugal, (don’t have to buy it, it’s free) – ready for upcycling into something new.  I took it home.

It wasn’t a rainy day, but snowing.  One of the piles of “saved” materials fell over and there was that old felted sweater.  I could make a sweater for one of my scrappy bears.


My grandmother lived through the big depression.  She instilled in me the never-let-go-of-anything-because-you-just-might-need-it-someday attitude at a very young age.  As I hovered over the trash can with the remaining scraps from my bear project my mind screamed no!, my heart started beating 90 miles,an hour.  I couldn’t do it. They were perfectly good pieces of nicely felted wool in a deep navy color that should, could, would be used for something?

I backed away from the black hole.  I don’t want to say the black hole of no return because many times I have dove back in – a bona fide trashcan diver.  I beat myself up just a little for being so pathetic then sat down and proceeded to cut the small pieces into even littler pieces in shapes for noses and eyes.

Only tiny shreds remained.  As I brushed them off the table and into my hand heading for the garbage with them, you guessed it, I still couldn’t do it.  This was hard to find natural fibers.  I bi-passed the blue bucket and added the bits to my bag of stuffing for the next projects.


I recycled, upcycled in my frugal way. Grandmother, are you smiling?  I will always be ready for that rainy day you told me about.  Unfortunately, in this new age, they call it hoarding.


Aside:  My first husband did not break me of this habit despite the fact he was a nomad.  If it didn’t fit in the truck, it didn’t go with.  I learned to be an exceptional packer, filling every nook and cranny with things we might need just in case.

    My new husband understands.  He, too, is a hoarder in disguise, saving old tools, old machinery, and things to make things with.

These are more stories to be told another time.  I must go now.

Zero to Hero exercise

My First Blog

This reminded me so much of what the water means to me and why I need to spend more time at the ocean.


A slow purposeful exhalation of negativity follows my deep burdened inhale. A wave of relief swells in the center of my being availing a glimmer of the rush to come. The warmth of peace free falls through my veins to the edges of my fingertips and toes. Peace so powerful it cannot be contained, flows through me and enters the water then embraces the earth. Unites with the sun, entwines with the clouds and kisses the sky. We are one, interconnected, gliding in harmony. The flow is intense. It cleanses and clarifies; encourages and applauds. It validates and secures. It affirms and charges. It’s “I CAN DO ANYTHING” power. And for a nano second, I can. I’m aware of a joy filled smile on my face and involuntarily laugh aloud. Until suddenly a wave brings water up my nose and poof it’s gone. Once again I’m cold and feel like…

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I have been here several times before.  A place in my life where I could choose to do almost anything.  My mind is blank.  My heart is silent.  My soul is comatose.

All of us spend so much time dreaming, wishing, hoping to be in this spot, but each time I arrive, I am lost.    My lists seem unimportant.

I try to open up to the universe; to just be.  It is extremely uncomfortable and yet comforting.  So many years of conditioning to use the freeway or at least the roads mapped out.  Once you get out into the rural roads, and even the trails, eventually there is no map.   However, being lost is okay.  It can bring something new and fresh.

I have come to another fork.  My self refuses to show me the way.  So, I am going to just sit down on this rock and rest for a spell.

Let it come to me



On Journal-ing, Writing, Recording

There is so much information on how to write, journal, blog.  The key to all of it is 


You say you need ideas, writing prompts.  Everyday take note of whatever your first thoughts are as you awaken each day and you will always have a topic.  It doesn’t matter how mundane you think that thought is, there is a good story there.

                               JUST START NOW!!!

In any craft of life consistent practice cleans out the cobwebs, hones your skills, and inspires new ideas.

                                DON’T STOP!

Apply your writing to your crone-ing journey and we can each leave important information to those who follow down this  path of creating a new life.  It’s great stress relief, meditative, and inspires new areas to explore.

                                WRITE MORE!

I am a Crone


I am a crone.  I am looking for my tribe.

I have learned finally to love and believe in myself, be comfortable in silence, let go of guilt, accept that I can only “save” me, just be.  Now I look for role models and fellow travelers for this new life stage, sharing love, encouragement, humbleness, joy, awe, inspiration.

Being an elder is no longer retiring to the rocking chair to knit ( although that is a favorite meditative activity of mine).  I feel a gluttonous urge to devour everything that interests me.  I feel child-like, curious and ready 

to learn, with only the new restrictions of my ageing body slowing me down a little.  All the better to pay attention this time.

I am learning to detach a little more each day from those parts of life and the world that I can not help, I can not change; trying to not allow the frantic craziness of the “norm” weigh me down.  My new mantra is:

Love myself

Love others

Satisfy my curiosities.

If I only do these three things, I will not have to tell anyone who I am, what I do, or what I believe because it will be self evident.  And in these actions I hope to plant seeds in other hearts.

I love this crone-ing process of becoming an elderwoman.  I love the freedom.  I love the peace and contentment.  It can be raw and challenging at times but full of understanding and aha moments.