Marcellus my new octofriend

Marcellus, white eye showing above his suckers

Yesterday, I went for a nice walk around the waterfront with my friend Steve. Although I am perfectly capable, for now, of going on these walks alone, I am really grateful to Steve for his companionship and conversation. We went more than five miles and, when we got to the Marine Life Center, we went in to visit the new octopus who is now a resident. He was picked up when some fishermen caught him in a net, and although injured, he has recovered quite well and is now eating and playing (as all octopuses seem to do) in a covered sanctuary. He can be viewed easily, as you can see from this picture, but signs everywhere remind visitors to talk softly and not to point at him. They are very sensitive creatures.

I first visited when Sherlock, another Giant Pacific octopus, had been captured and was available for viewing. When Sherlock was first captured, he was ten pounds and stayed for several months before being released back into the sea. He gained thirteen pounds during that time and made many human friends, who cared for him and probably still miss his presence. They can grow much larger, up to around 150 pounds during their relatively short life span.

Marcellus is much smaller, although another giant Pacific octopus, and he was given plenty of TLC when he first arrived and has gained a fair amount of weight in the short time he has been at the Center. He will also be released at some point in the future to return to his natural environment. It is fascinating to me to watch him, to wonder what is going on in his mind that allows him to settle into captivity and seemingly thrive. I was first enthralled by octopuses when, by chance, I watched a wonderful Netflix documentary about them. You can see it at My Octopus Teacher if you have a Netflix account. I've watched it several times and certainly will again.

Last Thursday, I almost decided to hike with my regular group, instead of working in the lunchroom at the Senior Center. But I finally did my usual volunteer session and ended up working harder than I have before. It was partly because they were serving Salisbury Steak, which apparently is a real favorite of the clientele. I ended up taking home a vegetarian patty, with mashed potatoes and green peas. There were so many people in line that some people had to eat and leaVe more quickly than usual to allow us to accommodate everyone. For the first time, there were still people coming through the door when we usually are finished for the day. Although I got very tired and ended up walking more than 10,000 steps during my shift, I found that when I tried to remember three or four requests in a row that I simply couldn't do it. 

I also learned that it makes a huge difference when people are appreciative of your efforts and don't just treat you like part of the furniture. An imperious snap of the fingers, pointing at an empty cup, didn't make me more likely to hurry to fill it. In fact, I found that when someone treated me like that, it made me angry and resentful. That was the first time in the lunchroom that I realized what a difference it makes when people are having a good time and pass along their appreciation to those around them.

I am also already seeing some regulars who must come for lunch every day, sit in the same places each time, surrounding themselves with the same companions and enjoying both the food and the camaraderie. I overheard someone telling another to be less judgmental of those of us serving them because we are volunteers, not paid staff.

The lunchroom before the onslaught

There are eleven round tables to set up, each with six chairs, which are stacked on the walls before we take them apart and put them around the tables. You can see the lazy susan in the center, holding ice water, glasses, salt and pepper, sugar packets, and a plastic flower bouquet. Everything except the flowers are wiped down carefully before and after we use them. Everyone works together, without anyone being in charge, helping one another.

'Thank you' is the best prayer that anyone could say. I say that one a lot. Thank you expresses extreme gratitude, humility, understanding. —Alice Walker

I really enjoy being part of a team, and I have made more friends who will be there with me as we work to help others. Through example, many people help others just by being appreciative, and others by showing the best way to accomplish a task. Everyone is working together and it lifts everybody up. As you can see, there is a good reason why I am enjoying my new role at the Senior Center.

It also helps me to remain positive, to look past the news of the world towards a better future, towards a brighter day ahead. All of us here on this tiny planet can do something to make today better for someone, and it also helps us as well, to bask in the hope ahead for a kinder, more gentle world. We can only accomplish a little bit of that, each day, but it adds up. And there are plenty of helpers along the way, if we look for them and fill our hearts with love and gratitude.

That's it for today, dear friends. When we meet again next week, I hope that your days are filled with happiness and healthy thoughts. I must say that just writing this post has helped me. I think of Marcellus, my new friend, and Michelle, another new friend who has helped me learn the lunchroom ropes. And many others who surround me with good vibes. Until we meet again, I wish you all good things. Be well.

I found my tribe

Me at the Volunteers party

Last Friday, we volunteers were treated to a wonderful Roaring Twenties party to introduce us to the new venue for the Bellingham Senior Center. It won't be ready for a couple of years, but I should be an old hand (in many senses of the word) by then, knowing all the tricks and trades of the kitchen helpers. Although I've now only been to four Thursday lunch setups and serving duties, I feel it's where I belong. I always get at least 10,000 steps running around and helping people, and no other volunteer activities seem to offer as much exercise, which (as you know) I love. If you give me a chance to move at top speed for more than two hours, and feeling well used at the end, it's my idea of time well spent. 

Lynda looking really pretty on the dance floor

The first task I had to undertake in this group is to accept that I belong here, with these seniors, and that I have something to offer that uses my skills and helps me to feel useful as I approach my eighty-second birthday. That large area where the seniors are dancing will be redesigned to be a place where many different activities can take place. Right now we are in a building that has few options for expansion. I took a tour of the new facility and am very impressed with how it will all be used.

I can still take the occasional Thursday hike with my old hiking partners, as they are also getting older and slower, but mostly I have migrated over to the Tuesday hikers, since they take a much less strenuous walk or hike and I end up being one of the more fit hikers, rather than struggling to keep up, as it often turns out with the Thursday hikes. I do know, however, that it's important to keep my exercise routine going for as long as I can. Once I stop, well, it will be something I did in my early years. When I was young, my whole life stretched before me, I would use the phrase "the rest of my life" as if it was infinite. But it's not. Life for each one of us is finite and limited by the events we experience, whether or not we stay active. 

When I was just starting out, when I first began to feel like an adult in my early teens, I had no idea what the future would hold for me. I remember a long-ago Fourth of July in our backyard, when Daddy gave us sparklers to play with, and he lighted them with a cigarette. He asked me to hold it while he set things alight, and I still remember how grown-up I felt holding a cigarette. Many years later I tried to stop smoking, and I finally succeeded in my thirties. No, that innocent foray long ago didn't get me started with smoking, but peer pressure and then addiction held me in its sway for much longer than I wanted.

And then as I simply lived my life, I got old and felt as though I could no longer be free to act like the kid I still felt myself to be. Life is a true blessing, and all the various iterations of the many versions of myself are still part of me. Being old is also a blessing, right? Not everybody gets to experience it.

The most important thing I can tell you about aging is this: If you really feel that you want to have an off-the-shoulder blouse and some big beads and thong sandals and a dirndl skirt and a magnolia in your hair, do it. Even if you're wrinkled. —Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou was one of the most prolific poets of her day; she was born in 1928 and lived to be 86. She was always an inspiration to me, and the phrase "I know why the caged bird sings" is what I think of when I remember her. It communicates everything to me. That's another aspect of age: I think of those who are already dead as mentors who will help me over that hump we all face in our future. When I was young, I felt that once you had died you were simply gone. I don't think that any more, partly because of the continuing effects on the living that many who are gone still impart to those of us still here.

When I ponder the wonderful gift I have been given, the life I have lived and continue to enjoy, even through the tribulations of change and diminishment, I cannot help but be filled with gratitude. All of the many people I have been are still part of me: the mother who played with her infant and the mother who buried them. The earthbound person who learned to fly in the air with her friends, and the person who finally gave it up when it was time. The person who searched for her tribe once she got old, and finally found it at the Senior Center, surrounded by others who find that service to others is very uplifting and joyful.

It certainly helps me continue to enjoy life to be able to share it with my dear partner, he who shares my days and sleeps next to me every night. And I do cherish all the wonderful gifts of community that I have with my virtual family as well. The fact that I can still see well enough to read and write is something I never take for granted these days. I know one day it will be gone, but then again, so will this body. It wasn't made for permanence, whatever that is. The only true constant of our existence is change, and I accept that with joy and sorrow. Glad I have it now, but sorry it will be gone in the future.

Mercy! This turned out to be different than I expected it to be, when I decided to write about my new senior existence. But it's appropriate, and I do feel better now that it's out of my head and poured into the post. I think of you, my dear virtual family, often when I consider that the continuance of my days and our time together will one day pass away, but not yet, not now. You deserve to look for joy and happiness in your days, just as I also deserve the same thing. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Election Day is coming

Dahlias at Hovander Park

I am a real fan of dahlias, which only come to grace our gardens with their blossoms at the end of summer and early fall. These were taken when the Senior Trailblazers went to Hovander Park in Ferndale a couple of weeks ago. Since we have still not had a hard frost, I expect that they are still doing well. We've had a few nights of temperatures in the low 40s (6°C), but nothing colder than that. Yet.

However, this weekend has given us the most wonderful cool and sunny weather that anyone could hope for, even those used to more moderate temperatures, like people from Hawaii or more temperate climes than we get here in the winter. We are just entering fall, and winter is a few months away. 

Leaves are starting to fall

But between us and winter lies another scary time, and I'm not talking about Halloween. It's the American election. I am going to take a moment away from my usual (hopefully) uplifting posts to discuss what is uppermost in my mind right now: the election in three weeks. Any day now, we who live in Washington State should receive our ballots in the mail and will fill them out and either post them, or place them in a drop box outside the Bellingham City Hall. Given the stakes of this election, both me and my guy are anxiously awaiting them and will fill them out and get them into the drop boxes right away.

Not only do I consider it to be our civic duty to vote, but frankly, it is the ONLY thing I can do other than to send money to my preferred candidates. That's all available to me at this moment in time. When we lived in Colorado, we were some of the very early voters in line to cast our votes on Election Day, and at first I really didn't like that we couldn't have that moment duplicated here in Washington State. But now I have grown to prefer it this way, because we can be assured that our votes will definitely be counted and not manipulated in any way. 

I am really having a hard time understanding why this election is so close. What is it about Trump that he has such loyal followers when his rhetoric is so hard to follow? And when he is saying such awful things about his fellow citizens? By this time in the election, I expected that the polls would reflect a landslide for Kamala, but no, as the days pass, her lead is shrinking and we are in danger of Trump being re-elected once again. I was so happy when Biden dropped out and endorsed Harris, an amazing woman with stellar credentials for the job. She started out strong, and I watched the entire Democratic convention and enjoyed the spectacle and everyone who spoke. It was like a balm to my liberal soul to watch so many people all around the country come together with joy and enthusiasm.

Election days come and go. But the struggle of the people to create a government which represents all of us and not just the one percent — a government based on the principles of economic, social, racial and environmental justice — that struggle continues. —Bernie Sanders

I voted for Bernie and was disappointed when he was not our candidate, but I voted enthusiastically for Hillary and was looking forward to our first woman president. Now I am there again, but I've learned the lesson of 2016: don't assume you know what the electorate will do. Of course, Hillary won the popular vote but lost the Electoral College. And we might be seeing a repeat of eight years ago once again. So, here I am sitting at my computer in the dark, typing away and hoping for the best. I wish I could take a longer view and realize that all things work together for good, eventually, but there are so many people all around the world suffering horribly that I forget sometimes to simply stop and just sit, fold my hands in prayer, and turn it all over. The only person who can help me to see the longer view is me.

Yesterday I had the most delightful walk to Squalicum Harbor with my friend Steve. We walked around five miles, and I have now begun to hold his arm whenever we are together, taking it just above his elbow, and feeling safe whenever we come to an obstacle or street corner. At first I held it only at the street corners, but I began to hold on longer and longer, because it made me feel so much more confident. He's like my Seeing Eye Buddy, but I don't get to see him except on Saturdays and for a few minutes on Thursday before he heads off to teach his chemistry class. He still works full time at the local community college.

We met in the coffee shop more than a year ago, but I cannot imagine my life today without his company. He's very smart and taught me to do sudoku, but I've let it go because I enjoy word games much more than numbers. We play some New York Times games like Wordle and Connections before we head out the door on our walk. The one thing we rarely do is talk politics, since we both need to look on the bright side of life and just enjoy being together. He has become a good friend indeed.

I wish there was a way to describe what is happening with my eyesight. Last week I had the third eye jab in my left eye, and I don't think I've lost any vision since I started with the injections, but they only slow the progression, not stop it, so I am always braced for what comes next. I realize that I can continue to write here and read your blogs, only because of what's still not gone from the left eye. Everything eventually comes to an end, and I will find some way to enjoy my life and find new activities once I can no longer see to read. Habits of a lifetime are just that: habits. I will find new ones and discover a way to keep myself happy and content in my life with whatever comes next. I am already well into my eighties and so I am not looking to start anything too difficult or time consuming. 

Volunteering at the Senior Center has already become a very delightful activity, and I will be able to continue that for the near future. I really enjoy being a waitperson with my fellow seniors and actually can do it pretty well. Plus I get more than ten thousand steps just during that two-and-a-half-hour stretch. I'm usually pretty tired afterwards and it feels just great to have been part of a team. Hopefully I will end up being a real asset and not just a newbie to that team. They are delightful people who have accepted me as one of their own. I like that!

Well, this post didn't turn out to be as much of a downer as I feared it might. I now am looking forward to my Sunday breakfast with John, and experiencing yet another beautiful sunny day. I got my flu shot yesterday and my arm is hardly sore (Yay!). I was afraid I might have a bad reaction but no, it's nothing really. Much better than getting the flu, and if I do get it after all, it should be a mild case. Life is good, and the coming days should be pleasurable, with the right attitude and not too much news to bring me down. I hope you will be enjoying yourself, too, and finding ways to concentrate on the positive and not the negative. We do get to choose what we focus on, right?

And my dear partner still sleeps next to me as I write this, and my tea is long gone. The day beckons, and I find myself feeling much better than when I began. I do hope you will find a great week ahead, and I look forward to our next gathering here. Until then, be well, dear friends.

Fall is upon us

Steve in front of mums, eating a jalapeño bagel

Yesterday, I went on my usual Saturday walk with my friend Steve. While at the most distant spot on our walk, we stopped at the Haggen Grocery Store so I could use the bathroom and he could buy himself a tasty bagel. He likes spicy stuff and when I asked for a bite, he gave me one with some jalapeño on it, and it immediately cleared up my nose, like magic.

We walked just over six miles, and I began to feel myself tire around the five-mile mark, so instead of extending the walk, we headed back to the starting point. I have not yet recovered fully from the effects of covid, even though I had a booster just a week before getting sick. It took me a few days to get over it and feel better, but I didn't test negative for a day or two after that. My dear partner is still sick, having gotten it from me, and since he is immune compromised, he's still coughing but gradually, slowly, recovering. I feel a tiny bit guilty for having given it to him and then bounded back so quickly. However, my continued tiredness and low energy is expected, I guess. I am grateful to be in such good health that I can fight off the illness with little after-effects. Just the lack of boundless energy, but it's a little better every day.

On Monday, I will receive another eye jab, and I am not ashamed to say that I am NOT looking forward to it, but the fact that this treatment exists at all, and that I can get it mostly paid for by my Medicare Advantage Plan is a benefit that I hope will help me keep more of my sight from deteriorating. It's only expected to slow the progression of the geographic atrophy, not stop it completely. But the fact that I can still to this day sit here with my laptop and see to type is worth whatever I must endure. Every day when I wake, I am unsure whether I will be able to see well enough to write a post. One day, I will find that the central vision is gone from my left eye and although I will be able to make some adjustments to help me get something on this post, it won't be easy. Sometimes I cover up my left eye and see whether I could continue to write. The answer is complicated: yes, I could use the audio feature to write something here, but I couldn't go back and read it, rewrite parts of it (as I always do). I'll come to that one of these days, but for now I'm still functional with my good eye.

We all know that everything in life is temporary anyhow, right? I've been blessed with good health and work-arounds for many aspects of aging, especially if I am willing to take "good enough" and not pine for the days when I didn't even have to think of these shortcomings.

Love grows more tremendously full, swift, poignant, as the years multiply. —Zane Grey

 The fact that I have outlived both of my parents and most of my immediate family makes me feel quite accomplished in some ways. I am the oldest of six siblings, and my dear sister PJ died more than a decade ago. We all have been taking statins for many decades to combat the hyperlipidemia that we inherited. I will be signing up for my annual wellness visit within the next few weeks and will see how my blood work lines up with past years. But before that happens, I need to get through the eye jab and the dentist. Sigh. As I sit  here in the dark, I realize how fortunate I am to have these options open to me, but it doesn't mean I enjoy them.

That said, I realize how lucky I am to live in the Pacific Northwest, with its moderate climate, and to have a warm rented home to live in within my means. There are so many people in the world who would see my life as incredibly fortunate. So I do my best to help others and give as much as I afford to charitable organizations. Right now most of my disposable income is going to political campaigns, but that will end soon and I can go back to Doctors Without Borders and St Jude Children's Hospital. 

I am reminded that I have a choice every day, when I begin my week, looking at my circumstances and realizing how much better my life is than so many others. At the coffee shop, I see homeless people everywhere, those who carry their few precious belongings around behind them in a cart. I see them on the bus, on street corners, and gathered together sometimes to create a makeshift community. They will struggle to stay warm during the upcoming cold weather. I wonder if they look at me, many decades older, and feel compassion for me, as I do for them.

This morning I am hopeful that my dear partner will be a bit closer to being healthy. He's been coughing so much I worry about him, but his body aches and tiredness are beginning to moderate. When I think back to the days of the pandemic, I never imagined that we would still be getting the virus and being vaccinated against it, these many years later.

I feel so much gratitude for the life I have been given, and I am happy to share the small little corner of my world with my life partner, as well as with all my virtual family that comes to visit me every day. I am also feeling blessed to have such wonderful activities available to me, such as the Senior Center and the hiking friends I have known all these years. And I can still walk on most of them, feeling just a little twinge that the hard hikes are no longer within my reach. There are plenty of other walks and hikes to enjoy, so I will.

My friend John will be by to take me to breakfast, our usual Sunday morning activity, and I will then come home to do some mundane tasks (like laundry) and go out into the sun and clouds as I walk my usual three miles, taking in the changing leaves and feeling the fallen ones swishing under my feet. And I also hope that you, my dear virtual friend, will have a wonderful and satisfying week ahead. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things. Be well.

So pretty!

Made it through covid

Late summer rose in Cornwall Park

 Yesterday morning, for the first time in a week, I tested negative for covid. I was surprised at how sick I got, considering that I have never missed a covid vaccination or booster. I had received my last one exactly a week before I came down with it. However, the fact that even though it is only a week later and I'm done with it, I sure was sick. When I think back in my memory, four or five days ago I was so sick that I was unable to walk more than a few steps without becoming exhausted. And you know how much I have prided myself on not getting sick.

One of the worst parts, though, is that I got my dear partner sick with it. He first got covid four years ago, just after it emerged in early 2020, and he well remembers the painful sinuses and distressing cough. He's got both again, and he's as weak as a kitten, just the way I felt a week ago. When I woke this morning after a really good night's sleep, it was hard to remember that I could have been so sick. Now am so much better. Not all the way better, but enough to appreciate feeling good.

Nothing, however, focuses the mind better than being sick enough to think ahead to what the future most definitely holds: more illness, more downtimes, and less energy to carry me through my days. By the time my eighty-third birthday slips into my back pocket, I hope to be back to whatever fitness level I am able to attain at this period of time in my long life. And to be grateful for every single moment.

This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness. —Dalai Lama

 I just want to spend these final years enjoying the life the two of us have created here in the Pacific Northwest. My days of hard hikes in the mountains are over, but there are still so many places to walk around in and enjoy. There are still so many wonderful people working at the Senior Center, now the center of my activities. Of course the hikes I've enjoyed over the past decade and a half originated from there, but now I am exploring the rest of the many offerings they have. I am very blessed to have such a fine center available to me. If you're interested in what is offered, you can check out the monthly newsletter.

October starts on Tuesday, and it is now only a month away from Election Day. We here in Washington State vote entirely by mail, and we have about three weeks from when we receive our ballots until November 5, when they must be either mailed back or placed into drop boxes. When we lived in Colorado, we always voted at our local precinct, and we were some of the first people in line, up in the early hours before the sun came up. In all the years we lived there (over thirty), we never missed a chance to vote. At first, when we moved here, I missed that, but these days we spend quite a bit of time perusing the ballot and making our choices on the referenda and learning about our local politicians' different stances on the issues. It's so wonderful to be able to be part of it all, especially when I see what is happening in other parts of the world, where the citizens must obey whatever laws are passed without their input.

Our country may not be perfect, no place is, but it's one of the better places to have been born and lived our lives. Now that we are into our final years, I can think of no place on the planet that I would rather be. Well, except for Canada, and places within their provinces that seem to be well managed. I follow a dear friend from Prince Edward Island, and I so enjoy seeing their environment and sometimes wish I could live there. But I am really perfectly happy living here in Bellingham, Washington, with its wonderful activities for seniors, which I have become, while nobody was looking. I see other seniors around, but also young people and families that are just beginning to form. I sit on the bus sometimes with crowds of students on their way to classes, and they seem to be from another planet, from another time and place at least, from my own student days. 

John called me yesterday to see whether I would be up for breakfast this morning, and I said yes, I am now testing negative for covid, and I am also feeling good for the first time in a week. I guess that is one side effect of having received all those covid boosters, I wasn't sick for too long, and now, a mere week later, I feel pretty darn good. I am grateful for small favors, like being able to walk in the sunshine and enjoy the company of my good friends. Yesterday Steve met me at the coffee shop, and he was very solicitous and wanted to make sure I didn't try to do too much. We walked for just under three miles, slowly and deliberately, and then I drove home, after a quick stop at the grocery store for some supplies. I am grateful that I can still see well enough to drive, but I also am aware that it won't be for that much longer.

 Since I started receiving those eye jabs, my eyesight has not deteriorated any further, but I do know it's only temporary. I am grateful every morning I can see well enough to read and write here, and I suppose it's possible that my central vision on my left eye might continue, but I am not expecting it to. I now must use that little light on my phone to see many things that were once quite visible. My next eye jab is October 7th.

Don't think I am complaining, because I continue to be very grateful for everything I have. It's normal to lose ability as we age, and I am content to enjoy what I still can. And for now, life is continuing to be something to look forward to in every single day. I can still walk with a spring in my step, I can still look forward to my yoga classes, and I can also look forward to the volunteer activities at the Senior Center. And I have friends who love me, and whom I love also. What's keeping me from being happy? Nothing! I am feeling on top of the world right now, and I am also looking forward to seeing my friend John who will take me to another Sunday breakfast.

So, with that, my dear virtual family, I will wrap up this post and get on with the rest of my day. Until we meet again here, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

A wrench in my routine

Last Sunday's surprise

Well, now I can say that I have joined the huge number of people in the US who have had a doozy of a virus hit, and I am now in the process of getting over it. So that is the only thing on my mind today, Tuesday, and the reason I haven't joined the Happy Wanderers in their trip to Goose Rock. My adventure began on Saturday, when I woke feeling moderately good, but with a little bit of soreness as if I had worked out a bit too much. A scratchy throat wasn't much to worry about. Little did I know what was to come.

By the end of the day, I was barely able to stay awake until my usual early bedtime, so I went toddling off to bed. I didn't sleep well, and when I woke in the morning, I felt truly sick and figured I had picked up some sort of virus, not thinking about covid, since I had gotten my covid booster a week before. I think I probably got infected on Thursday when performing my volunteer duties during the lunch hour at the Senior Center. I was not wearing a mask, and I was exposed to numerous people over the course of three hours, as I went about helping to set up the tables, finding places for people to sit, and then getting them coffee or tea as they enjoyed their wonderful chicken pot pie lunch.

The timing of it all seemed to make Thursday the D-day for infection, but who knows for sure? On Saturday I went for a walk with my friend Steve, and felt only a little "under the weather." By Sunday morning, I called my friend John to cancel our breakfast plans, and I went back to bed. The main difficult symptoms was my sinuses, which felt like they were on fire. I had zero appetite, and the muscle aches by this time were coming on strong. As I lay in bed, I felt worse and worse as they day went on. I took my temperature and found it to be 100.7. (It eventually reached 101.) I also realized that I could barely hold myself upright and returned to my bed, not leaving it for the rest of the day and night, except to get up once to pee. I felt a little like I had been hit by a truck, as much as I hurt all over. I couldn't function at all, and the amazing thing was that I had zero appetite and could barely make myself drink, but I knew I had to. I had developed the covid cough, too.

I was so happy to have a sweet partner to take care of me, as much as he could anyway. I was really sick, not having experienced such misery since my last bout with the flu back in Colorado, years ago. He helped me take a covid test, with the result you can see above. The "test" line is really dark! After all the tests I have given myself before, now I know what a positive test result actually looks like. There was no doubt. I also ordered some more covid tests from Amazon.

Yesterday morning, Monday, I felt a little better after a night's unrestful sleep. I called the Senior Center to cancel my yoga class and let them know I have covid, so they can pass it along to the volunteer coordinator. And now, just a few days after the onset that was so painful, I am now well on the road to recovery. My temperature is down to normal, body aches almost gone, sinus still not quite right but much better. The weakness is not completely passed, but I can now make it to the bathroom without worrying if I might need help to get there. My appetite has returned, and I enjoyed a wonderful lunch that made me feel almost human again.

I still have a runny nose and bouts of sneezing, but that is all quite doable, and I would bet that by this tomorrow, I might feel like myself. I did get up today and did my Tibetan exercises (two days lost) and put on some actual clothes, not just my jammies. I've watched some TV and downloaded The Daily Show and The Colbert Report for some laughs. 

And now I can appreciate that an elderly old lady can actually recover fairly easily from covid, but I am convinced that all the shots and boosters I have received have helped to make this less severe. I have also developed a true compassion for all those people who did not make it through this awful disease, and I am truly grateful for all my friends and family who care what happens to me. I'm thinking that I will test myself again tomorrow to see what the results might be. It will be five days since the onset of symptoms, so maybe it won't be too long before I can venture out in the world again.

:-)

September songs

Taken by Rita Eberle-Wessner

Looking for just the right picture to start off my post, I checked out a favorite Flickr artist, Rita Eberle-Wessner. She took this one earlier this month, and I was simply mesmerized by its loveliness and downloaded it onto my Mac and then made it my display picture. It brings me peace just to look at it. I hope it does the same for you.

September has long been a hard month for me. My son Stephen died on September 17th, sixty years ago now. I am sometimes amazed that I am still here, still kicking up my heels at my advanced age, while so many I know and loved have been gone for what seems like forever.

I don't have any memories of my sweet baby any longer. I read somewhere that every time you access a memory, it changes, and after awhile it bears little resemblance to the original moment. I can believe that, but just picking up an infant and holding him for a minute seems to bring back some ancient recollections from my distant past. I know that my sister Norma Jean and I both experienced much of the same memories from our childhood, but now they have diverged so much that they feel like different events. I think I'll just let my memories rest and gather starlight.

Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf. —Rabindranath Tagore

'f'I woke this morning feeling "under the weather," as it refers to feeling sick. I have a little temperature (99°F) and my sinuses are burning, my energy is nonexistent, but I am not sneezing like I have a cold. I did get my new covid booster a week ago, felt pretty good until I went to bed last night. I think I'll stay home this morning instead of going out to breakfast with John. No need to expose anybody else to whatever I've come down with. I hope it's not the flu, since I haven't yet gotten my annual vaccination. Who knows? I guess I'll know soon enough. 

This morning I intended to recall some old memories of having been a mother, moments that still live in my heart. When I gave birth to my son Chris, I was barely nineteen and his father was twenty. We were such innocents! Chris is now gone, having died at forty of heart disease, and his brother Stephen was felled by spinal meningitis at the age of thirteen months. Chris was happily married, and his widow still texts me now and then. I don't usually respond, since it's still painful to recall those awful days. Grief never really completely leaves people; it just morphs into something less hurtful after many years have passed. Almost everybody my age has lost parents and sometimes other family members as well, but that is just what being mortal is all about. We will all one day lie down in our beds and will not get up again. Do you believe in the afterlife? I think I do, but I'm not completely sure it makes any sense. Probably it's nothing like we imagine, but I do believe that something of who we are continues. I know that there are nights when my loved ones visit me in my dreams, and they are as real to me as they ever were. Memory is a curious thing, all right. I think I'll just do as Tagore suggests, and dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf.

Interestingly, as I sit here pondering my post, I'm beginning to feel a little better. Nothing quite normal, but I do think that maybe I'll be able to start my day with my Tibetan exercises and sit in meditation, which are both constant companions when I arise out of bed, every morning for decades now. I'm such a creature of habit, but I don't know if it's such a good idea when feeling so under the weather. That usually means I am feeling a bit ill, unwell, poorly, or sick. My throat is slightly sore, nothing too bad, but I suspect that when I try to speak this morning, it will be with a croaky voice.

But into every life some rain must fall, and getting a littile sick is nothing too terrible, but it makes it hard to write about anything else, It's what my life is right now, although I have a sunny day ahead of me. Should I get out of bed and join the living? It's not easy to think of much else, so I think perhaps I'll stop here and spend some time gazing at that photo. Sorry I'm not my usual self today, but I can't pretend to be feeling perky. Nope. I'll be back next week, hopefully with  a smile and a better attitude.

(P.S. It's Covid all right.)