Waiting for the referral

Me and Lily, taken by Steve

Yesterday, Lily joined Steve and me at the coffee shop. She was wanting to do some grocery shopping at the Farmers' Market and had some time before, which she spent with the two of us. She had her usual latte, while I enjoyed my double Americano, and Steve filled his own coffee cup holder with his usual straight coffee. Then we set out for a walk. It was shortened by Lily's visit, but it was worth it to have her tell some stories about her recent visit with her son, who came up from Guatemala to help celebrate her new status as an American citizen.

I have been more than a little rattled by last week's discovery that the thing on my neck is cancerous and needs to be removed as soon as possible. Then I found out when I tried to see if the referral had been accomplished, that no, it hasn't happened yet because my primary dermatologist was on vacation, had just returned and didn't get around to it yet. I do know that the referral should happen early next week, but I just don't understand why it is taking so long, I found that indeed I will probably see a young female doctor by the name of Joy Makdisi for the procedure. I think it's auspicious that someone named "Joy" will remove the growth. But shouldn't I be first in line?

The pathology report didn't inspire any confidence, either. This is what the report said:

FINAL DIAGNOSIS

SKIN, LEFT NECK, SHAVE:

Squamous cell carcinoma in situ, involving the deep and peripheral tissue edges.

Yikes! I don't like the sound of that. What does it mean that it's in the "deep and peripheral tissue edges"? How deep is deep? and if it's in the peripheral edges, does that mean there is more and that it might be hard to remove it all? I am sending myself into a tizzy, just considering what it all means. And of course, until the Mohs surgery is accomplished, nobody really knows the answers to these questions. I will be so happy to have a date to look forward to, hopefully sometime very soon. But I also realize this is not an optimal time for getting such surgeries scheduled, with so many people on vacation during the summer months. At least I will eventually have the surgery and my insurance should cover most of the costs. Even if I had to pay up front, it would be worth it just to get this taken care of.

In the meantime, I am not going to worry about the Canadian MacuMira eye treatment until this is cleared up. Both are going to be expensive, and I am willing to take care of it all myself, if necessary. I don't trust the insurance companies to be there when I need them. These days everything is complicated.

I guess this is what it means to be an elderly person in her (almost) mid-eighties. Her health not likely to become miraculously better in the future, as our bodies do wear down and out as we use them. I notice in the obituaries there are many people who die of "normal" causes and they are my age or even younger. As for my parents, neither of them lived as long as I already have, and genetics plays a role in our ability to live long and healthy lives. I wonder how long they might have lived if statins and better treatment for high blood pressure had been available to them when they were my age. Oh wait, they never made it into their eighties, or even their seventies! Daddy was 62, and Mama was 69 when they died, fourteen years apart.

Mama had a sibling, my Uncle Joe, who developed melanoma and died from it. He was a veteran and lived with my grandmother until he passed away. I remember that he had a mole on his earlobe; he didn't realize it was cancer, and it spread to his brain. He went into a coma for several weeks, but he did eventually come out of it. Interestingly, after he recovered, he then spoke with a thick German accent, and nobody even knew whether he had ever learned the language! He wasn't very old when he died, and he never married. I remember him still, and I even spent several months staying with Grandma and sleeping in his bed, long after he was gone. I remember Mama telling me he was exceptionally bright and accomplished many things during his life, but all of that is gone now. Nobody alive remembers. These days, I feel a kinship with him, as I try not to succumb to this skin cancer. My thoughts gravitate often to that spot on my neck and each time, I pray for guidance.

 No actual events in most people's lives that will be remembered for long after we die. There are a few in history, such as the ancient Greek philosophers, whose works are still read and revered, and other notable people who still give today's world much to think about. I still read and cherish the poetry of Emily Dickinson, who was in her fifties when she died, but she had written some of the most incredible poems by that time.

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And reverie. The reverie alone will do, If bees are few.

So much of the feeling of her her poems lingers long after I have forgotten the words. Years ago I went on a five-day solo backpacking trip, and I spent many hours committing several of her poems to memory. They are still there to be accessed when I need them. I am so glad that I can still read well enough, using my low vision setting on my Kindle, to read and appreciate other great poets today.

Longevity of one's life is not a given, or even something to be desired. There are many who have managed to fulfill their mission here on Earth in a short time, and lay down with a sense of accomplishment, ready to move on to the next adventure. I hope to be one of them, but I won't know if I made it until I, too, am at the end of my life and look back on everything I went through. I also believe that this life is not the end of my consciousness, but it is only a belief. I do believe that love is timeless, and that as I surround myself in love and charity, I will end up having been glad to have been here.

My post is pretty much finished, and yes, John will be here before I know it, ready to whisk me off to breakfast. My dear virtual family are often in my thoughts these days, and you know that means you, too. I am incredibly grateful for you, and for your own long (or short) life. Be well until we meet again, dear friends.

Playing along with the Universe

Steve and me at the Bellingham street fair

Yesterday, Steve and I met at the coffee shop, as usual for a Saturday, and went for a nice leisurely walk in town. I'm not sure exactly what this fair is called, but most of the booths had used items for sale, and I almost bought myself a $20 shirt. I thought at first it was a jacket, but it had no pockets and was covered with delightful sparkly things and fit perfectly. Unfortunately for them, they also had a full-length mirror, and I could see it was not quite a "me" item. We had a good time walking around and examining all the wares, but neither of us bought anything after all.

In the background of the shot, you can see the Mt. Baker Theater sticking up, showing exactly where we are in town. It looks almost like a launchpad, but it's not as distant as it seems from the picture. We walked around town and walked to the Farmers' Market, which wasn't open yet, so we didn't get our usual treats there, either.

Nevertheless, it was a very busy week. I am so grateful to Steve for his weekly Saturday walk with me. Today we walked around the downtown neighborhood, not taking our usual trek to Fairhaven or to the harbor. We are so lucky to have such a wonderful cool atmosphere, with the temperature in the mid-sixties, while much of the country is sweltering in hot and humid weather. Still we have August and September to get  through, with the most heat in this area starting about now (but it's delightful) and ending sometime in mid- to late September. 

If you read my other blog, Eye on the Edge, you know that I am now finished with my hikes with the Trailblazers, because of my failing eyesight and my inability to leave my fellow hikers to their own devices, while I struggle to find my footing. Some of you have felt it wasn't necessary, but I myself know that I would never have left on my own, without a bit of a push from the organizers. It doesn't mean I won't continue to hike alone or with one or two others, but no on has to worry about being responsible for me any more. And I have already lined up a couple of friends who are looking forward to my joining them on their weekly walks. So that is taking care of itself.

I also got the results back from my last week's biopsy of a growth on my neck. That wasn't as good news: the growth that they removed is showing up as a squamous cell carcinoma, right on the left side of my neck. I of course looked it up and found that I will be needing to go through a more extensive excision of the lesion. Oh, great! I haven't heard from the doctor yet, but I will be happy when that cancerous growth is completely gone. At least it isn't melanoma, which I have in my family history. But as I said, I will be very glad when this particularly tough time in my life is behind me. It's one thing to look forward to, having this done and gone. Hopefully it has not spread from the original spot.

I did sign up for more volunteer work in the Senior Center kitchen. On Friday I joined the crew to administer salad dressing to those who showed up for the great salad that was offered for lunch. I had dozens of different varieties for them to choose from, and I noticed that the most popular are thousand island and ranch. Most people ask for an enormous amount of dressing, surprising me. My arms got very tired from squeezing dressing onto the salads from big plastic containers for two hours, but I wasn't needing to manage alone; there were three of us at different times. I learned that Fridays are usually salad days, and good looking ones, too: these had great plates full of shrimp and hard boiled eggs, along with lots of greens. 

I am not sure if John is going to come to take me to breakfast. He was missing all week, downed by some kind of stomach flu. He didn't come last week on Sunday, and then missed the entire week at the coffee shop, except for one day in the middle of the week. I think he came mostly so I wouldn't worry too much, I guess. He has had no appetite and feeling very tired. He didn't call me or let me know yet, but I hope that he is better and we will have our usual Fairhaven excursion. 

Yes, it is not an easy time right now, for any of us here on Planet Earth. I took a quick look at the news this morning and promptly stopped, since I can't face the disasters with equanimity when I am not feeling any better myself. Looking for the bright and happy moments is a struggle, but I am trying very hard to keep my spirits up. I had a good night's sleep with a full eight hours, a half-hour of deep restorative sleep, so I can't complain as I look forward to another sunny (but cool) day ahead. The high is projected to be 72F, just about right, don't you think?

Our beautiful Bellingham Bay

Just writing this post has given me a new perspective, and as I look at where I live, I cannot be too sad about the day ahead. I will definitely try to get a good walk in, and I will listen to some uplifting songs and keep on looking ahead to better days, which will return, I am convinced. 

Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Cool weather, once again

Mostly pansies

Yesterday, Steve and I walked around the waterfront, a truncated walk since he needed to attend the monthly Saturday breakfast with recently retired faculty at his institution. He's still working full-time, but he's at the age when retirement is not so far away. During the summer, I only see him once a week, since he's got a class that starts early on Thursday, so the Saturday walk is all he's able to fit in at this time of the year. It was actually quite a glorious walk, with the weather cloudy and cool, not even reaching the mid-sixties and requiring a jacket. I snagged the above picture from a pretty flowerbed, with several others nearby that had not been watered and looking very tattered. I found this one very pretty and inviting.

I really cherish these walks with Steve, and I am glad he is able to find time to walk with me, since these days I am really struggling to keep my positive viewpoint uppermost. The news of the world, globally, really seems rather depressing and not very uplifting. Going for a walk along the boulevard to Fairhaven, or a walk to the harbor like we did yesterday, never fails to lift my spirits.

When we returned to our starting place, Steve drove away to his breakfast buddies, and I went off to the food co-op for some needed supplies. Although I rarely drive anywhere these days, I keep my time behind the wheel to a minimum, given my limited eyesight. I think I am fairly safe, though, since I am extremely careful to pay attention to my surroundings and don't deviate from my usual short, familiar drives. My eyesight feels pretty normal to me these days, since it's been more than a year since I've noticed any significant change, and I've learned that your brain tends to normalize what you see when that happens.

This weekend I found another task that is no longer available to me: sewing buttons on items when they fall off. I have a vest that is missing two buttons, and I tried to thread a needle without success and got My Guy to do it for me. But then I found that I couldn't actually sew them on, since it's hard for me to see where the needle is supposed to go. If I really tried, I could probably get the task done, but it was discouraging to find out how my sewing days have gone, along with the days when I could knit and crochet. I can do them, but if I drop a stitch, I cannot find it again and finally gave up on trying. It's a small thing, and if I really got determined, I could find a way. I think so, anyway. It's hard to describe to someone what it's like to have good vision everywhere except right in the center of a scene, where you have to focus. And it's only one eye that is missing that central vision. If I back off from trying to see something up close, I can see it perfectly, using my peripheral vision.

I still have to get some more information before I can make an appointment with the office in Vancouver that offers the MacuMira treatment. Right now I am hesitating because of the expense, and the fact that I must get some information from my retina specialist. I know I am dragging my feet, but it's partly because I am reluctant to pay all that money (thousands) for a treatment that might or might not help. It is just like the eye jabs: it can slow the progression but nothing actually fixes my eyes. I just need to face the fact that low vision is all I'm gonna have from now on. I'm lucky that these days it's possible to do most of what I want to do with audible help (other than sewing on buttons). And right now I am sitting in the dark in bed, with my laptop illuminated and giving me the ability to compose and publish my thoughts without much difficulty.

My friend John called last night to beg off going to breakfast this morning, since he's not feeling well and wants to skip it. I am a little disappointed, because I like his company and our usual habit, but I'm glad he felt okay in calling to cancel. I'll see him at the coffee shop once he's better, and I'm pretty sure next week we'll be back to our usual routine. At least I hope so; this getting older business means nothing is ever certain to continue as it always has in the past. I'm determined to keep going with the routines in my daily life, even if I do need to change things up now and then.

Do you know anyone who is taking those GLP-1 drugs to lose weight? I just found out on Facebook that my brother is taking Ozempic and has had great success with it. Of course, everyone in Hollywood must be on them (those who struggle with weight, that is), because many celebrity types are looking so much, well, less fat. I'm thinking of Oprah, for one, who has always struggled with her weight and now looks to be normal sized. I hope she is happy with her looks. Does someone need to keep taking the drugs to keep the weight off? I wonder how it works, but I don't need to take them so my interest is purely academic. Anyway, it's another interesting turn in the news these days. 

Finding ways to stay on top of the news without getting bogged down in sadness is taking up a fair bit of my time. If I allow myself to read any long articles (which I can still do with low vision settings and my trusty magnifying glass), I must watch out for those that really distress me. It's not easy to find uplifting reading material, unless I go for the obvious places, like to comedians and whatnot. How about you? How do you keep yourself feeling positive? I am always looking for new ways, and I'll bet some of my virtual family has figured it out.

Well, this might seem to be a rather lame excuse for a post, but hey, this is what's percolating in my brain right now. I don't have to get up anytime soon, since I have now got no plans for the day ahead. I'll find something uplifting I'm sure, like going for a walk in the coolness. Or reading your blogs and finding out what is going on in your lives. So, dear friends, until we meet here again next week, I wish you all good things and plenty of happiness. Be well.

Citizen Lily and my eyes

Me with my IPA and Lily with her Pilsner

My dear friend Lily is now an American citizen, after having taken the exam for citizenship and paid the expensive fee. She said the test was much easier than she was expecting, passed it with flying colors, and will now get a passport and Enhanced Driver's License in order to travel between the US and her home country of Guatemala. I don't know if she is any more excited about it than I am. She is such a wonderful asset to anyplace she goes. And I am so lucky to have her as a friend. She is now as American as apple pie!

But it means that I can breathe a sign of relief when those ICE agents come a-calling here in Bellingham. Although she has been a model of propriety, it seems (from what I have heard and read), the government is trying to snag as many people as they can to drive up the immigration numbers. But for now, she is doing just fine and is busy working in her long-term job. I took her out to celebrate, with an early dinner and a celebratory beer. She has been a cherished friend for more than a decade. 

On another completely different subject, I am going to try a new treatment for the geographic atrophy in my eyes. My sister who lives in Florida told me about the treatment, called MacuMira, that is only available in Canada. The treatment consists of having a microcurrent of electricity delivered into my closed eyelids for 32 minutes, four times over a period of ten days. It purports to improve the vision of everybody who goes through it, but it is not a cure, only a way to get back some of my visual acuity. It isn't cheap, and only available to get in Canada. Fortunately, I live only about thirty minutes from the Canadian border, and I was able to find a provider in White Rock. The only problem I will have is finding a way to get there. Right now I am researching ways to accomplish this. 

I have stopped the eye jab injections I received for the past year, since they are also very expensive and invasive. After having gone through close to a dozen injections, I've grown increasingly hesitant to have them any more. They also don't cure the eye disease, but slow down the progression. So there is no way to tell if they have done any good. I do have to get some information from the retina specialist, and I will do that as soon as I get an appointment with the clinic in Canada. I don't ever want to have another needle stuck in my eye, and this new treatment sounds quite painless. To have an eye zap rather than a needle stick sounds like a progression of sorts, don't you think?

In any event, I'll document the treatment of my own journey to keep my eyes from deteriorating any further. The one thing I have learned already is that the central vision in my left eye has not gotten worse, it's still 20/20, so I can continue to drive and read (using low vision settings), so it could be that I can keep what I already have and might even improve what I can currently see. After researching it thoroughly, I am more than willing to try it.

There is no doubt that getting older and losing one's capacities is daunting, but what else can I do but keep on going, hoping I will find some ways to maintain for as long as possible what I have? Failing that, finding ways to cope with what is going on keep me feeling positive, even through hard times. It's not an easy time in the history of the world, and the trends of my country's politics is sometimes hard to take. But I am still enjoying, and finding happiness in everyday tasks. My life is puttering along and good things abound, when I look for them. You know that the wonderful virtual friends (that means you) I have found and maintain through our blogs is essential to my wellbeing.

With that, I will call the post "done" and think about the rest of my day ahead. John will be here in about an hour, and before he gets here, I've got my exercises and meditation to accomplish. So, without further ado, I'll wish all of us the very best week ahead. Until we meet again next week, I will sign off and look forward to enjoying your comments. Be well, dear friends.

Crocosmia, crows, and cancer

Crocosmia Lucifer at the harbor

I love crocosmia and am always thrilled to see it emerge in midsummer, looking as beautiful as I remembered it from previous years. The one species with which I am most familiar is the one entitled "Lucifer," for obvious reasons. It's redder than red and very prolific. Hummingbirds love it, and it consistently blooms from midsummer until late in the fall. We are so fortunate to have many varieties of flowers to enjoy here, but for some reason I tend to forget this plant until it returns in all its glory.

I have to admit that my memory is beginning to fail now and then. I did look at this pretty plant and tried to recall its name, but it just wouldn't come, until I finally looked it up and suddenly I remembered it as though it was right there all along. Memory is very curious, isn't it? 

Which reminds me of another one of those memories that I don't remember forgetting, until I once again recall it. I was noticing some crows around here in the past few weeks demonstrating a behavior that I had forgotten about, until I saw it again: crows that look exactly like their parents, same size and shape, but who are obviously babies, because they follow around their mothers and cry for food, when they can most likely already forage for themselves. Mama looks and acts distressed by the young one, until she finally gives up and feeds the "baby." I have learned to distinguish the young ones by their amusing antics as they also learn to fly. They flap their wings as if they aren't convinced this is gonna work, until they finally take off and wander around the sky, before any need for graceful flying is needed. Sometimes they get perilously close to traffic, but since I don't see any corpses lying around, I guess mostly they learn soon enough to avoid catastrophe. They are endlessly satisfying to observe.

Well, that covers crocosmia and crows, and now the part I really am sad about is the cancer part of my headline title. As some of you might remember, my dear partner has a form of lymphoma, one that affects his blood. He started taking a disastrously expensive cancer drug a few months ago, but his doctor was able to find some provider who would pay for the drugs while he takes it, four pills a day for as long as the drug helps. He has been very fortunate to have only a few minor complications, and as long as we don't have to cough up the cost, he will continue to take it. So far, the blood work shows it is making a positive difference, so we are happy about that.

Just in the past few weeks, I have found that two of my favorite virtual family members are newly diagnosed with cancer, and at least one of them is getting the same treatment as my guy: someone else pays for the sky-high treatment and he takes the drug. I hope he does as well wit it as my guy . The other person has just learned that she has cancer and will undergo a radical hysterectomy next week, with nobody knowing how many other organs might be involved. She will let us know, those of us who love her and hope for the best, as soon as she herself knows.

My family doesn't seem to succumb as much from cancer as other families do, but who knows? Something comes for us all eventually, and now that I am firmly ensconced in my eighties, I sometimes wonder what is in my future to deal with. I'll know sooner or later, right? Heart disease seems to be much more common with my relatives, having already taken both parents, one sister, and my son.

As we age, we find our own ways to adapt to change. And of course, that is the one thing we can depend on: change is part of life, and as much as I'd like to stay in the stable and comfortable life I have now, that is not how it works. 

The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance. —Alan Watts

I will continue to learn to move with change and find the upside of whatever I am facing. Right now, as I sit here in the dark with my dear partner next to me, lightly breathing, I am more than grateful for this moment and everything that I have. Tomorrow will be different, but today is just about perfect. The weather is mild and sunny, my friend John will come to take me to breakfast in an hour, and I will happily look forward to the days and weeks ahead. I love my virtual family, too, and will spend some time contemplating their situations. I am grateful for everyone who writes a blog and gives me a peek into their lives. Until we meet again next week, hopefully, I wish you all good things. Be well, dear friends. 

Summer potpourri

s

Sky, clouds, water, boulevard

Yesterday, Steve and I walked on a beautiful Saturday from downtown Bellingham to Fairhaven and back along Boulevard Park. There were so many people out and about that I was hoping that summer this year will be just like this for many weekends to come. We saw myriad dogs (which of course Steve loves to pet with permission from their owners) and the most crowded Farmers' Market I've seen in awhile. The weather was, as you can see from the picture, incredibly beautiful. The high for the day was 70°F, with a light breeze. It was the first time since my February fall that I've gone all the way to Fairhaven without any need to stop or slow down. After a bit more than five miles, I took an ibuprofen because I could feel my right leg beginning to complain, but within a few minutes, no more pain of any sort. I'm happy to learn than I can now accomplish enough exercise to continue to get better, but I'm not going to push it; what's the point?

It's been a wonderful week, which included a new (to me) walk on the Padilla Bay estuary near Anacortes on Tuesday, a flat, interesting trail on a dike, with mudflats on one side, and farmland on the other. Lots of birds and other wildlife kept it lively. This was an easy hike with the Senior Trailblazers. Then on Wednesday I took my usual yoga class, with a substitute teacher but still lovely, and Thursday I did my usual volunteer work at the Senior Center. I've grown quite fond of the other volunteers, mostly women.

My fellow volunteers

This picture includes the Volunteer Coordinator Melody (at the table, fourth from  the left, sitting in front of me), but the others are all volunteers who receive a free lunch at the end of the shift. Here, we are all set up and ready to open the doors at 11:30am. Until they stop serving lunch at 12:30, we are busy serving coffee, tea, and then taking trays to the kitchen and finally putting the tables and chairs back into storage. The Senior Center serves lunch five days a week for $6 or whatever one can afford. I am usually very tired by the end and grateful that another shift is done. But I wouldn't trade it for anything; I get more thanks and compliments during this period than I do for the entire rest of the week. Not exactly fun, but definitely worthwhile. We served around 125 seniors on Thursday.

Summer has never been my favorite time of the year, but that might be changing as we continue to enjoy mild temperatures. I keep reading about the rest of the country, especially the Midwest, getting slammed with extraordinarily hot and humid weather. Although I have windows open throughout our apartment, it hasn't been really warm yet, and a cool breeze helps as well. That will change, however, during July and August, I fear. But then we will return to our normal mild and delightful weather. I don't see any reason to go anywhere else during the summer months. I do, however, sometimes tire of the endless days of rain and cloudy overcast skies during the winter months. My waterproof shoes and raincoats help immeasurably.

Abundant flowers and lush greenery

Of course, all this wonderful weather gives us plenty of beautiful vegetation and many happy gardeners. I saw this pink flower that I couldn't identify. Maybe one of my readers knows what it is. In any event, I am really pleased to know that others are also enjoying the days and weeks of perfection. It helps not to keep up with the political news, also. I read the headlines and my fellow bloggers posts, and that's about it for current events.

And in a few minutes, I'll get up out of bed and close my laptop and look forward to whatever is in store for me today. John, of course, will be coming to get me so we can make our way to Fairhaven to our favorite breakfast spot. For the first time this season, I'll be wearing shorts, since it's been forecast to be our first 75°F day. I will probably go out for a nice three-mile walk later in the day, if it doesn't feel too hot for me. I hope you will have a wonderful day and week ahead, dear friends. Life is too short to concentrate on the bad stuff, so I'm just not going to. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things.

Summer 2025 and a new war

Old and new roses

Last night, America began a new war with Iran. We don't know what the fallout will be, but it won't be good, that's for sure. The whole world is now awaiting the next steps. I am saddened and a little afraid, but in time we will know the effects and aftermath. I will stick with my own little life today. But I am filled with sorrow and trepidation. Stay tuned.

This week, I walked around the Cornwall Rose Garden noticing all the pretty roses in there at the beginning of the summer season. Even the spent rose is pretty to my eyes. Watching them come to life after having been gone since last fall has been delightful. This year, I didn't make it onto the trails around town to see any of this year's trillium, but they were there, and I've seen many posted by friends; now they are gone for yet another year. I'll just have to make do with these pretty roses as they show themselves during the coming months.

You wouldn't know it's summer here today. We had one of the driest late-spring seasons here in the Pacific Northwest in a long while, with so little rainfall that things were beginning to look rather parched, unless they got watered by hand. But for the last few days, we have gotten some much-needed rain and cool weather. While the Midwest is expected to have above-normal heat, we are not even making it to the low sixties, with 55-60 F being the high temperatures. I much prefer the coolness, so I am not complaining at all, feeling a little sorry for those of you expected to endure a real heat wave during the coming week. I suspect we will eventually have hot weather, but I'm in no hurry.

This past week I made my first real honest-to-goodness hike with the Senior Trailblazers. Although I've gone on some not-too-long and not-too-high hikes over the past weeks, this was the first one that really felt like I have gotten back to my previous ability to hike. I will never again attempt the hard hikes, since my new normal is nowhere near what I could once do. But it doesn't really matter to me, since I was afraid that I would never again attain this level of hiking ability, but I have, and I must remember to take it easy and not overdo. Now maybe I can work on getting ready of those extra pounds that seemed to take advantage of my inaction to magically make my pants fit tighter. It's not a huge amount of weight, but it's not the way I want my clothes to feel when I'm wearing them.

Enticing trail on the Interurban

I am so grateful to live in this part of the country, where the skies are mostly clear and cool, and the trails entice me to visit them. I don't know what future days will bring, but I will be here making the best of things. My life is rather circumspect these days, but I have so many really good friends, and my family seems to be doing quite well, even those living in the hottest parts of the country. Of course, we don't know how hot it will get, but if you look at maps of the expected heat wave, they show the Pacific Northwest holding firm with late spring temperatures, for now.

While nothing stays the same, a static universe isn't where we live. I can get onto one of my favorite sites, Astronomy Picture of the Day, and gaze at objects in our vast universe and marvel at this place we inhabit. I feel very fortunate to live during a period when astronomers are studying our galactic neighborhood and those places far, far away from us. When I feel stressed, I can visit a magnificent distant galaxy millions of light-years away and maybe harboring life, and it helps me to gain perspective. 

How about you? How do you cope with stressful situations? It's always interesting for me to learn how others cope. This morning, in a short while, John will pick me up in his truck and we'll head to Fairhaven for our usual Sunday morning breakfast. I don't think anything will be different, but I don't know that for sure. I cannot be the only one feeling this trepidation about current events. Later today, when it's warmer outside than it is right now, I'll go for a walk and that always makes me feel better and more grounded. 

I hope you, my dear friends, will find some way to enjoy the coming week, and that life will surround you with delightful treats, such as family, pets, and good food. Whatever is coming, we will get through it, together. Be well.