Double whammy

Harbor rainbow

We have been having the most rain I can remember since we moved here in sixteen years ago. Several nearby towns were evacuated and a few were flooded completely, not more than a few miles from us. We got almost four inches of rain right here in Bellingham last week, but other than it being extremely wet and difficult to navigate, we were safe. I took this picture of a rainbow over Squalicum Harbor a few years back; we haven't had enough sunshine for something similar right now. Until today, when the sun came out to remind us that it is still up there above the clouds.

I rode the bus a few times this week, but mostly stayed inside. I didn't go to the Senior Center for yoga on Wednesday, because it was raining so hard I didn't care to be out in it. And we had another problem: SG caught his shoe on a rug in the living room and took a hard fall. At first, he thought it was just a bad bruise. We didn't know it yet the time, but he broke his arm at the elbow. Over a few days, it got more obvious that it was not going to get better without treatment. So, I drove him to the Emergency Room in the middle of the night on Wednesday. You know I wouldn't have attempted to drive unless it was really important, but the rain had stopped and it was a clear night (early morning, actually: I got to the ER around 3:00am). I was able to see the lighted road and with his help, made it all the way there without incident. Once we got there, we went into an intake room and were eventually given a room to wait for the doctor. He took a look at the swollen arm, which was so painful that SG cried out loud several times before he was finally given some intravenous pain meds. Gradually he became more able to deal with the pain. 

Eventually it was x-rayed, confirming a fracture just below the elbow, and he was fitted with a sling and we made our way back home. It was light out by the time we set out, seven hours after arrival, and once we were home, I called a friend and asked for her help in getting to our pharmacy for the pain meds. By Wednesday night, he was in less pain, and I was able to help him into bed, and we spent a restless night trying to cope with the trauma.

I was really worried, but he was able to get some sleep, as was I. Not much, but enough. Thursday morning, I knew I wouldn't be going to my volunteer work at the Senior Center, but the main thing I needed was to make sure he ate something and was able to drink some water. I was very encouraged to see him relax a little.

Meanwhile, I got a text from my rental company that my check for December had not arrived. I called the bank and found that they had mailed it on December 1, and it was already the tenth of the month, with no sign of it. I was told to write another check and get it to the Property Management office. Well, I don't write checks any more and didn't have any. The bank sent me some, and I found out how to get to the management office in order to get the check there, and I called the bank and stopped payment on the missing check. My dear friend John listened to my story while we were at the coffee shop on Friday, and he drove me there. I walked the check into the correct office, and I hope this is the last I hear about that awful scenario. On top of SG's accident, I was afraid of late fees and whatever, but I think I was told that since it was not my error, it should be okay.

But this was on top of the scary scenario with SG, so I was a bit of a basket case and didn't go to my Friday volunteer work, either. So, Saturday morning was the first time I felt almost normal in a week. The sun was finally making an appearance, and we (Steve and I) walked around the harbor for a short while, so I got some exercise for the first time in several days. Me, who almost always gets ten thousand steps; last week was an outlier.

So that is what this post titled "double whammy," but with the rain, it might have been appropriate to call it a "triple whammy," And on top of all that I have felt barely able to hang onto some sense of normalcy. At least it's incredibly warm here, with record temperatures set while the rain fell. We have another, less intense but scary, atmospheric river coming for the next week. If I look at the good side of this time in our lives, we still have a dry home to live in, and we have health insurance we can afford, while much of our country is facing dire increases in costs. So I should be grateful for what we do have going for us, and I am. 

Today my friend John will come to take me to breakfast in Fairhaven. I hope that happens at least, so I can have a nice visit and time with him. What would I do without friends like him? I don't need to wonder because he's still there. Life is hard right now, but the sun is rising on a new day. I have struggled to get this post written, so I'll call it done, well enough for now. I hope you have a great week ahead, and that you will be here next week when the saga will be behind me. Thanks for hanging in there. Be well.

Another trip around the sun

I loved this dress

I have no idea what prompted me, the toddler in the picture above, to show you my underwear and pretty slip. Yes, that toddler from decade ago is definitely the elderly octogenarian settled into her easy chair in the living room, getting a start on tomorrow's Eye on the Edge blog post. (Now I'm in bed writing, the next morning.)

Lately, I have reverted to toddling, much as I must have done in those days. When I get up out of bed and make my way to the bathroom for my nightly visitation, I think I remember what it was like to be on my own two feet but not feeling all that steady. That toddler has no excuse, other than just being just a little past babyhood. For me these days, it's because of having used the current body for so many years that it's beginning to wear out. They do that, after all. The toddler was visiting her grandparents and other family members in Burbank, California. I think it was summer, looking at the flowers and all that. I can almost smell that crisp ironed dress. Wonder when was the last time I wore something like that.

It's been a hard week with a lot of weather to deal with, mostly rain, with much more on the way. Also, because down in Florida, we lost a family member: my sister's 15-year-old furry companion. Icarus was only very rarely sick, and didn't seem frail at all, when last week he began to shiver and was obviously not feeling well. Norma Jean took him to the vet's, who ran some tests and learned that he was very sick, terminal in fact. Within a few days, he went from seeming fine to needing to be taken across the Rainbow Bridge. After all the goodbyes and plenty of tears, Icarus was buried in their back yard, next to Zen, another companion who died a few years ago.

Icarus in his happy place

I wish we could do the same for us humans as we are able to do for our furry family members. He got sick and when it was obvious that he needed to be put to sleep, he was gently nudged across the chasm between worlds. We humans, however, are put in an ICU and subjected to lots of pain and indignities until the end. I'm glad that some states allow assisted suicides, like my own Washington State. They make sure regulations are followed, but nobody needs to suffer for months on end.

Fifteen years is a long time for a dog to live, although Icarus was a small ten- to eleven-pound Papillon breed. They tend to live a bit longer than larger dogs, but they don't ever live long enough. This is not the first time Norma Jean has lost a pet, and she knows she will eventually get used to this new reality, but it doesn't make any easier. There is now a dog-sized hole in all of our hearts that needs to heal, but the scars will remain to remind us of his sweet presence.

We have some really scary weather on the way, starting late tonight and continuing until Friday, with some places looking at perhaps seven inches of rain before the atmospheric river moves out. Up here north of Seattle, it might not be as intense, but flood watches are issued for all rivers and lakes in the state. Fortunately, I have lots of rain gear and will try to stay out of the worst of it. At one time when I first moved here, I didn't mind getting soaked, but as I have grown accustomed to it, now I prefer sunny skies and fluffy clouds. You don't move to this area if you are averse to lots of rain, however. 

I am beginning to think about the rest of my day. John will be here in about an hour, and I will have done my exercises and meditation by then. I will also have finished writing this post, and thinking about the dark days to come. We have two more weeks of shorter days and longer nights, until the winter solstice on December 21st, early in the morning here. Then the days will slowly grow longer and the nights shorter, until the summer solstice in June. I hope I will be here to take yet another trip around the sun.

In winter, the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens wear a look of a more exalted simplicity. Summer is more wooing and seductive, more versatile and human, appeals to the affections and the sentiments, and fosters inquiry and the art impulse. --John Burroughs

And I do hope the coming week will bring plenty of joy into your life, and that your umbrella holds up in the weather. I wish you all good things, my dear friends. Be well.

Long holiday weekend comes to an end

Korean vendor's stand at Farmers' Market

 Yesterday, I went for a lovely walk with Steve from the coffee shop to Woods Coffee at Boulevard Park and back. We stopped at the Farmers' Market for a treat that Steve wanted to share with me. I had never before sampled this Korean food, which we bought and shared. We had Korean sushi, not that different from the sliced sushi I am already familiar with, and something called "fish cakes." Steve has been a fan of Korean food since he grew up with all sorts of unusual food at markets in Hawaii.

At the end of our walk, we first enjoyed the Korean version of sushi. It was so good that, once it was finished, I wanted more. Steve suggested that we try the fish cakes, which are long sticks with big bits of dough woven onto them, filled with some kind of fish, I guess. There are both regular and spicy versions; Steve had the spicy (which I tasted) but I had the regular, which was delicious and not bland at all. Our sticks were standing in separate cups with broth. I was a bit tentative at first, but once I realized how good they were, I ate every last bite and drank all the broth, happily.

Although I didn't get the spicy version, I tasted Steve's and knew I had chosen the right one for me. Spicy food doesn't usually keep feeling as hot after a few bites, but I wasn't willing to give it a chance, when my little cup of goodness was just right for me. Believe you me, I will be eating more of this food when I return to the market next time. It was also not at all expensive, and the market has plenty of places to sit and enjoy your meal. We didn't do that, however, because although it wasn't raining, the temperature was on the cool side. Even a little cold. The sky was cloudy, and I didn't see anybody running around in shorts! It's the end of November, after all.

Our Thanksgiving day was a little eclectic, but just right for SG and me. I had purchased all the food we wanted, a little at a time, and instead of a sit-down dinner for two, we simply filled our plates with just the amount we wanted, and started early in the day and still had some left over when the sun went down. And the best part is that we never felt the need to eat more than we wanted, we could start over and have it all again. We had the usual: turkey (of course, with both dark and light meat), really good mashed potatoes, turkey gravy, cranberry sauce, green beans, and a delicious cheese and garlic bread. For dessert, we had pecan pie, just a little side dish sized, to keep from eating too much sugar. It was also wonderful. So we had just the right amount of food to keep from getting too full, but still enjoying every bite.

Thanksgiving Day itself was cold and rainy, all day. Since there were no buses running, there didn't seem to be any reason to leave the comfort and warmth of our home. About midday, however, we lost power and spent over an hour in the dark, not knowing when it might return and bring back light and heat once again. Looking out the window, I could see that the entire neighborhood was dark, and we received a notice on our phones that it might last for a few hours. I was glad I didn't have anything in the oven, but my neighbor did. It turned out to be about an hour long, and reminded me once again of the incredible gift, usually invisible, that electricity is in our lives. It also reminded me that there are plenty of homeless people who don't have it at all, and we take it for granted until something like this happens to remind us to be grateful for it. 

Tomorrow is my birthday, which seems to come around more often than once a year. How is it  possible that I will turn 83, when it was just last week that I endured entering into my eighties? Soon I will be one of the "old old" instead of just being "middle old." According to Wikipedia:

Sub-stages of old age    

Young-old (65-74) years): Individuals in this group often have good health, are less likely to need care, and may still be working or enjoying leisure activities. They are typically more financially stable than previous generations.  

Middle-old (75-84) years): Health limitations may start to become more pronounced, with a higher likelihood of chronic diseases affecting physical activity. Hearing and vision loss can also be more common.  

Old-old (85+) years): This group is more likely to require assistance with daily activities and need long-term care. The risk of conditions like dementia increases, and conversations about end-of-life care and planning are often necessary. 

I am certainly well aware of the changes that aging has brought to me. The hardest one to deal with has been the dimishment of my eyesight. I can no longer read books, and the only reason I can still write these posts is that I wear a headlamp to brighten the world around me and let me see what would otherwise be just a fuzzy dullness. I realize that, since my last birthday, I have lost the ability to see much of the color that I once enjoyed seeing in the world. Depth perception is gone as well. But, happily, my peripheral vision is intact. Other than when looking directly at someone's face, I can look to the side and make out who it is. And my ability to walk without assistance, at least on flat surfaces, hasn't left me yet. 

Sorry, I don't want to think about what I have lost, but instead concentrate on what still works well. I saw this picture when Steve and I were walking in Boulevard Park.

Some of the foliage on the trail

I am not sure whether there would be much color in the scene anyway, but to my eyes it was awfully pretty and worthy of a photo. The main thing I need to remind myself is that so much of what is important to me does not require eagle vision, but instead walking in joy and appreciation of what is around me. Whether I can see it perfectly or not, I can still walk on the trails and enjoy the company of my companion. And here at home, I can also enjoy sharing my life with my dear partner, who sleeps at this moment quietly beside me as I compose this post.

I do hope that you enjoyed your own Thanksgiving week and will continue to join me in our wonderful and beautiful world. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Thanksgiving week

The Thanksgiving lunch crew

Here you can see the entire group that put on the "Thanksgiving lunch" at the Senior Center last Friday. Since the Center will be closed both Thursday and Friday of the coming week, the staff and volunteers put on a big Thanksgiving lunch for our clients. Being relatively new to the venue, I didn't know what a big deal this holiday is for the Senior Center. I sort of knew it was gonna be something special, when I learned that the volunteer coordinator had called in an extra five people to help prepare and serve the meal. We started our shift early, and by the time we would normally be opening the doors, the lunchroom was already full of patrons! Other people knew what was happening, since the line outside the door stretched all the way through the entire lobby, to the windows and staircase to the downstairs, long before our usual opening time.

I had an inkling that this might be a different time, since on Thursday the lines were long, and we had more people coming to lunch than usual. They were serving Denver omelets, which were incredibly tasty and obviously a favorite of the regulars. But we didn't have any extra staff, so we worked very hard. During my shift on the lunch days, I usually make close to a thousand steps, but by the time we finished and cleaned up the place, I had gotten 11,300 steps! It made me very anxious for how hard we would be working on Friday, but because of the extra staff, it was actually fun and not stressful at all. We must have served close to 200, when on regular days we serve maybe 125 to 150, max. We ran out of trays and silverware, which were scooped up and run through the machines so that we could continue to serve everybody. People showed up when we were normally done, and they were accommodated as well.

After it was over, and everything was back to normal, some of us staff people went out into the lobby and ate our own Thanksgiving lunch. It was delicious, and I decided that this year I will make our meal just like this one: turkey with gravy, mashed potatoes with green beans, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. I skipped the stuffing, not being a fan of it, but otherwise it was just right. Having discovered this volunteer work, I have made new friends and enjoy a really good meal twice a week. Since this is my "pay" for the work, I don't need to pay the $6 that others are encouraged to pay. Nobody needs to pay anything if they cannot afford it, so I don't know how much they made for the Friday lunch, but it was one of the best times I've had at the Senior Center so far.

I had a ride home with my friend Michelle, so I didn't have to walk in the rain to the bus. When she dropped me off at home, I was in a really good mood and looked to see how many steps I walked on what I feared was going to be a stressful shift, but with so many people working, I only got 8,000 for the entire day! It's amazing how different it was than I expected, which reminds me not to anticipate difficulties that don't even exist. 

That would be a good thing to remember during these holidays, which don't usually  bring much happiness for those who are expected to work hard to create a good time for others and to forget themselves. I think being especially grateful and giving thanks directly to the workers will be my mission for the upcoming holidays. It's looking like a very good time ahead, don't you think?

I will take the experience into the day and week ahead, bringing joy and sunshine wherever I can. And the best part of the entire holidays is that I get to share it with my dear partner for at least another year. Several of my new female friends are recent widows, having lost their partners during the past few months. One day, that might be me, but not yet. Not yet: I am filled with blessings and intend to expand them into the world around me. Nobody knows when it will be our turn to make our way across the Rainbow Bridge into the unknown. Until then, I will enjoy and savor every little bit of happiness and joy that I can. Can you feel it permeating the air around us? I can and hope you can, too. Dear friends, I wish you all good things and look forward to another wonderful adventure. Until we meet again, be well.

Late date for Thanksgiving

 

Gorgeous orange wet leaves

Walking home from the bus yesterday, it was raining (no relief) and I saw these really gorgeous orange-colored leaves covered with raindrops from the incessant rain of the past few days. The entire West Coast is experiencing a huge rainstorm, and we are not being spared.

And here I am, nestled in bed like always, but without the slightest idea of what I will eventually write about. I went to bed too early last night and because of that, I woke early this morning. Early even for me, so here I sit, pondering the morning and wondering what will pop out of my brain this time.

I had vivid dreams and thought perhaps I could harvest some of them, but you know what happens when you wake up and think about your dreams: they evaporate with nothing to do but let them go back into the misty corridors of my mind. One little piece still remains, and I thought for a minute it might be real, a thought that I had amassed some bits of material and piled them up neatly. But no, that was the only remnant of my dream that still stuck around. And now I've sent it away, too. Here goes, my now-awake thoughts finding a direction.

I have stopped getting those eye injections, and so far, there has been no more deterioration of the worn-out retinas that are responsible for my failing eyesight. That is what they were supposed to do: slow or stop the progression from continuing to fail. Since nobody knows for sure if they helped or not, I am quite curious to monitor my eyesight as it exists in the moment. I am very fortunate to be able to continue to read, if not easily, I can still do it if I have a bright light behind the text. That's why I am able to use my laptop to write this post. And that means I might not have too much continuing deterioration, but who knows? I can only take my days one at a time, and continue to do for as long as I can, find work-arounds for it all, and stay active as long as  possible, but cut myself some slack for not wanting to walk in the rain all the time. I have quite a few raincoats, which are all getting used, and I find some of them work great, until they simply give up. They can be reinvigorated by a good washing and drying, I'm finding.

I have made a few essential friends during my volunteer work at the Senior Center. Both of my frequent rides home are becoming really good friends. Both are recently widowed (within the last year) and are making new lives for themselves. Friday I saw the two of them in deep conversation with a new friend. She is a beautiful woman, dressed elegantly in pink and white. A fragile frame but a lively and interesting mind, Elaine is 94 and recently  lost her husband after a long illness. This was only her second time at the Center, but she has already begun to find a new life. She said she really didn't like eating alone at home, and finds the community that surrounds the lunchroom crowd to be delightful. And she herself is delightful. She doesn't drive any more and uses the WTA Specialized Transit service to get around. Right now, those of us over 75 pay nothing for fixed routes and a small fee for a bus to come to your home and return you there. The fares are increasing, though, and starting next summer, I'll be paying something, not that much but something, for my rides. 

I'm glad they are not cutting services, just making the difficult choice to raise fares. There are people I see riding the bus who would have a hard time paying anything at all, and I'm hoping they can come up with some way to help those people. I live in a very caring environment and think they'll figure it out. Perhaps those of us who can afford it can pay to help others. I'll keep you posted as to what they come up with.

I am taking every opportunity to keep myself healthy, happy, and active. If I had tried to find just the right place to retire, I could not have found any place more perfect for the two of us than Bellingham. It was just a happenstance that I found it online and then we visited before we moved here. It does rain a lot, but that's the reason, I suspect, that more people don't move here. Just like the rest of the country, or should I say world, we have our struggles and wrestle with too much growth, too many people leading to overcrowding and other community problems. But considering what so many places are facing, we are not doing too badly. When I was young, it was inconceivable to me that we would have such a population explosion. Nobody wants to talk about it, but it's real and very concerning. Check out this World Population Clock if you need something to consider before deciding to find some place less crowded. (Hint: there isn't any place)

Well, when I first started writing this post, I didn't know where it would lead. But here it is, worrying about our planet's health when one species has become incredibly dominant and endangers the entire ecosystem. I'm not sure where I'm going with this thought, but there is nothing I myself can do about it except point to it and marvel that we are not all looking at it every day and wondering what to do about it. In any event, I am now stirring in my bed and thinking about starting my day, getting up and doing my exercises, going out to breakfast with my friend John, and seeing the wonderful world as it really is. 

Dear friends, until we meet again next time, I wish you all good things. Be well.

It's always something

My laptop in front, John's in back

This picture shows you the place where I (and usually John) spend our weekday mornings, drinking our coffee and tapping away on our little iPads. John takes off his reading glasses and goes to the bathroom rather regularly, and I took the opportunity to capture this iconic scene while he was away, and while I was waiting myself for a trip to the bathroom. When he joins us, Steve sits at a table like these to the left of me.

These days, I usually write a blog post (this one) on Eye on the Edge, published on Sunday mornings, and on Tuesdays I write a shorter, less involved post, on DJan-ity. This is my current writing regimen, but I do occasionally forget the Tuesday post. My ability to keep track of things these days is slipping, slowly but surely.

However, I do remember that each day is not a simple rehash of my daily habits, but each day is discrete and (hopefully) memorable. Being able to look back at my days through these writings for the last almost two decades is really valuable. I was trying to remember when I got my last Covid shot and then had that bout with the virus, and there it was. chronicled in an earlier post. My recollection of how sick I got was also surprising; I remembered it as being rather benign, but the post reminded me of how sick I was for a few days. I didn't end up hospitalized, because I was well vaccinated and recovered fairly quickly, with no respiratory distress. It was still no walk in the park.

As the days, weeks, months and years pass by, I feel very fortunate to live in a place where the weather is mostly benign; I read about the extreme weather, with rain, wind, and even hurricanes that other parts of the country endure regularly. We are not immune from bad weather, but it comes and goes rather quickly. Last week we experienced several inches of rain, lots of fierce winds, but it passed by, leaving us with puddles and some standing water in the streets, but nothing that couldn't be navigated easily. And then yesterday, Saturday, was a really beautiful sunny day with light, almost nonexistent, wind. I went to the coffee shop with Steve, and the two of us walked five miles at the harbor before returning back to our starting point. It was a glorious day in so many ways. I was a little worried that my right hip might act up, but other than a twinge now and then, it was just fine. I felt so glad that I didn't have to ask for a short cut back but kept up without any problems.

But there is always something, these days, to remind me of my advancing age and that most octogenarians need to find less strenuous workouts. When I consider my activities today in comparison with earlier times, I realize that I have done exactly that. My right hip has been bothering me ever since I took that flying leap on the ice last February and was laid up for weeks. It still goes out on me every once in awhile, but it's much, much better. And that is because I continue to move as much as I can, not taking the opportunity to stop exercising. It's part of my life and has been since as long as I can remember.

I still can walk that far, maybe a little farther, but I could no longer manage the harder hikes that I took for granted a few years ago. Because of my failing eyesight, it's helping me to cope with the changes. But it's always something, isn't it? As we age, we need to accept that we are not as capable as in earlier times, not grieve over it but find new ways to enjoy our daily lives. I am guided by many of my peers who write their own blogs about coping with difficulty and finding new ways to keep active. And a few have shown how to gracefully accept their inevitable decline and I hope to do the same. We have each other, fellow travelers on this beautiful blue rock we call Earth.

I have been missing the Astronomy Picture of the Day website, which stopped putting new stuff up when we started this shutdown. We have now surpassed the length of past shutdowns and there is no signs of it ending anytime soon. Sigh. I really feel for the workers who go every day to their job and don't get a paycheck. But I am hopeful that my Social Security will continue, and that the shutdown will not affect my ability to pay bills and buy groceries. We are all hoping it will soon end and things will return to normal, or a semblance of it anyway. But it's always something, right?

That was the catchphrase that Gilda Radner used during his time on Saturday Night Live and became the title of her memoir, which is now released in its twentieth anniversary edition. Twenty years!

I had wanted to wrap this book up in a neat little package. I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned the hard way that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. --Gilda Radner

Ain't it the truth, Gilda. And just like that, I have found a way to end my post, with her wonderful words and a wish to listen to her voice once again. I'll get the audio version of her memoir and smile and laugh along with her. 

https://www.amazon.com/Its-Always-Something-Gilda-Radner-

 So, dear friends, I will wish you, as I always do, many happy moments in the coming week, and wish you all good things. Until we meet again, be well.

Still weathery but lots of fun

Some of the costumed Halloween workers

We had a great deal of fun at the Senior Center during the Halloween festivities. You may not recognize some of these people, but you have probably seen them incognito during previous journal entries, but now they are not quite so recognizable. I didn't dress up; there are so many previous years when I spent a good deal of time finding just the right costume. But that was then, and now I am quite happy to enjoy other people's fun costumes.

One of my favorite past year's costume was decades ago, when I decided to become Harpo Marx for the day. I found an old floppy top hat and men's clothes, but the most important part was an old brass horn. Many people reading this post might not have even known who he was, since Groucho was the brother most people recognized. (Learn about the Marx Brothers here.) There were actually five brothers, who performed in vaudeville for many years before becoming movie stars in its early days. Since I am old, I remember seeing the old comedies they performed in. I sure enjoyed learning about them and trying to be a passable Harpo. I didn't speak for the entire day, using the horn as my "voice."

My other memorable costume was becoming Dolly Parton. I bought an appropriate wig and paid a friend to give me some over-the-top thick makeup to look like her, complete with voluminous hair and a glittery outfit. That was fun, too.

As I have grown older, I have somehow lost the desire to play dress-up or pretend to become some famous person. It's just one more thing that has simply fallen away. There are times when I look at my life today and wonder how much of it has become part of the ether, and how much might be possible to remember and reconstruct, even all these years later. Just thinking about dressing up has reminded me of part of my past that I had completely forgotten.

Everybody must be the same way, I think. The young engeneu I was in my early teens is maybe still somewhere inside my soul, but it's been buried for so long that I'm not sure I would even recognize that part of myself today. As I have aged, the old lady I have become feels right and appropriate, but it was so gradual that I cannot even contemplate returning to that reality. Do you ever think of yourself as a child? I wonder.

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them - that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like. --Lao Tzu

Now that I am losing the ability to see the world around me clearly, I am finding that there are many other ways to appreciate being alive than simply seeing. People are incredibly helpful to me, when I cannot do something alone, I often find someone who is happy to help. It also makes me realize how much I can still accomplish, and I hope that will be true if my world grows darker. I often think of Helen Keller and how much she accomplished without the seemingly essential gifts of sight and hearing. Helen died 1 June 1968 at the age of 87. A quote from the internet: “I seldom think about my limitations, and they never make me sad. Perhaps there is just a touch of yearning at times, but it is vague, like a breeze among flowers. The wind passes, and the flowers are content.” (Helen Keller)

She is my inspiration in life. Once she found her passion for learning, she became an internationally recognized scholar and read (in braille) more than a dozen languages. She wrote books and essays all her life. I will never be as accomplished as her, but I can find joy and love whenever I look for it.

And with that thought, my dear friends, I will leave you for the week. My dear partner still sleeps next to me, and my gratitude for him is boundless. Until we meet again. I wish you all good things. Be well.