It turned c-c-COLD after the rain fell

Along the waterfront selfie

I asked Steve if we would take a picture of us while we walked along Squalicum Harbor on Saturday morning. Our first walk since he returned from Hawaii to visit his mother for Christmas. His daughter Sara was also there, so they had a very nice time in warm tropical climes. Then they had to return to a very frigid, albeit sunny, Washington State.

We walked somewhere around five miles, my first good workout in at least a week, maybe more. It feels good to sit here in my favorite chair, having had such a good time in the cold, but feeling bad that I had forgotten my sunglasses and couldn't find my hat with a visor. Those were all serious drawbacks as I dealt with the incredible sunshine and frosty weather. It sure felt like winter, and I was glad that the rain has left us for awhile, but there could have been an in-between period. But no. In that picture taken in yesterday's weather, it isn't possible for you to see the wind, too, which obviously makes it seem colder. It was barely at the freezing mark, and the strong winds made it feel even colder. Brrr!

We have been relatively warm, considering that it is now winter. Our air temperature a couple of days ago was at least twenty degrees warmer than today's. We have turned a corner and will probably even get some snow here eventually. I was so glad we didn't have freezing sidewalks and roads in our neighborhood. I am still recovering from that icy fall last February. I sincerely hope I don't make that mistake again. I found my strap-on spikes and will not fail to use them if I decide to go out when it's slippery. The weather is always a good way to begin a post that I need to write, without any idea what to write about. It's my self-induced "job" to get something up here, even when nothing immediatcly comes to mind. I could remember previous moments when I was in this same mindset, or I could reminisce about days gone by. Or... I am in a quandary of my own making. Let's start with the good news.

SG has successfully been added to those available to use the Para-Transit bus. His situation has changed, now that he can arrange for the bus system to pick him up at home and take him to his doctor appointments. He starts the new treatment for his blood disorder on January 7th, with a monthly injection instead of daily pills. I read all about it and think it will probably be less difficult to deal with, but who knows with these strong and fairly new drugs? At least our insurance plan covers it.

His broken arm is not hurting him all the time, and he even did his own laundry yesterday, by making the basket into two loads and carefully navigating the stairs to the laundry room. He now has the ability to get to the orthopedic surgeon's office to get his elbow fixed. He's very resourceful and careful not to take another fall.

I am beginning to think that those eye injections helped slow down the progression of the geographic atrophy, since the last few months without them doesn't seem to have made a difference in my ability to see with my left eye's central vision. I thought by now I'd be unable to see well enough to write these posts, but I am still the same, or about the same, as when I stopped taking them. I simply couldn't afford the cost, not to mention the discomfort of getting them. So that's another bit of good news.

I'll talk to my sister Norma Jean on FaceTime on Wednesday and will find out how she's been since losing her fifteen-year-old dog last month. These furry companions just don't live long enough to keep from having to cope with such a loss every decade or so. On aggregate, though, our situation is on the upswing, both physically and mentally. At least we all still have our ability to think and use our brains. There are many people in their eighties who don't have that ability any longer. I might be reaching here to find things to be happy about, but hey, you do what you can to keep going when life gets hard, right?

I am also glad that we are almost through the holiday season. When you don't have family around, you rely on friends to make things interesting. My time with John, my time with Steve and other dear friends makes my world much brighter than it would otherwise be. And having my guy getting stronger every day, well, it makes every moment feel like a blessing. Today John will take me to our usual Sunday breakfast (I'm looking forward to it) and then come home to a warm, safe place during the cold and wind. I am content and filled with gladness that I am still here, still writing, still enjoying life. I hope you will be in the same situation, dear friends. Be well until we meet again next week.

Christmas Eve at Lake Padden

Lake Padden a few years ago

I think I have used this favorite picture to show what a beautiful place I live in, all year round. This was taken on Christmas Eve, and I have always enjoying see the soft clouds, a bit of snow, and the lake all together.

There are so many people in the area who will have experienced an especially difficult season, with many nearby communities needing time to get back to normal, after the floods and washed-out roads. We were spared, but it doesn't mean that those we love and know well are not suffering. And now it's gotten cold, with projections of days of sleet and unpleasantness ahead. It's the first official day of winter.

Winter's official start is today, December 21, at 7:03am Pacific Standard Time. It marks the longest night of the year and the shortest day. From here on out, we will gain more daylight (a little at first) and it will continue until we reach the Spring Equinox in March (wherreis year, for some reason, because we are no stranger to these wet periods. Can it be because I am getting so much less vigorous, and realizing that my sweet partner is having to learn to deal with working without one arm (actually one elbow joint) for the foreseeable future?

Yesterday, I finally made the move to my next project: learning to "read" whole books on the Audible app on my phone, which I downloaded to be able to read a book suggested by SG: Ram Dass' amazing book, Still Here: Embracing Aging, Changing, and Dying, written in 2000 after he survived a debilitation stroke.

It was just before his 70th birthday, and he went on to live a productive life until he died at 88. I remember reading his "Be Here Now" book many times during my thirties. And then I lost track of him for many years. He lost the ability to walk and his speech was impaired, but he took up other activities and remained very active in spite of his debilitating stroke. I recommend the book enthusiastically. I am about halfway through it, listening to it through my hearing aids as I sit in my favorite chair in our living room.

I had been putting off getting the app, believing my failing vision would help me continue living my life in a way that I could cope without major changes. I do think that the dreaded eye injections slowed the progression of the disease somewhat, but when I started them a few months ago, there has been no discernible change in my central vision in my left eye. I have, though, lost color and notice how difficult it has become for me to look at pictures and tell what I'm looking at. Given enough time, I can figure it out, but now when I write these posts, for instance, I use my bright headlamp to find the right keys, and it takes me a long time to finish them. Much longer than I would have believed possible. Once I find the right keys, I plow through the words, hoping I am making sense and rechecking the letters (with my trusty headlamp). I now have three, along with magnifying glasses.

The stroke has given me another way to serve people. It lets me feel more deeply the pain of others; to help them know by example that ultimately, whatever happens, no harm can come. 'Death is perfectly safe,' I like to say. --Ram Dass

I hope that some day I will see my encroaching blindness as a gift, maybe one for others, as he says here. But for now I am just trying to cope, trying to remember that when one part of our lives is diminished, others transform to help us find new ways to be. I am still very much alive and kicking, as they say, and I know how much it helps to serve others. I found that out in becoming a volunteer at the Senior Center, helping others to enjoy a good lunch. Although it's not been all that long since I began doing this, I have made so many new friends, those whom I look forward to seeing as they come in the doors and make their way to a seat. This past Friday we had a Christmas lunch, roast beef, mashed potatoes, rolls, buttered carrots, and pecan pie. I had the veggie version, which was also delicious. I was able to take home some of it for SG as well. We had a piano player bringing us happy tunes, then a violin playing all sorts of delightful music. The atmosphere was festive and everybody seemed to be having a good time. I was tired by the time it was all over, and my friend Michelle gave me a ride home, so I didn't need to stand in the sleet waiting for the bus to show up.

I got a call from John yesterday to tell me that our mutual friend Gene is in the hospital. He had a stroke, not a bad one, but they found he has had many of them lately, so he will have his carotid artery scrubbed today, Sunday, before they let him check out of the hospital tomorrow. He recently lost his longtime partner Paula, but her daughter will be taking care of Gene as they leave the hospital and he recovers.

Life is uncertain, but it sure helps to have loved ones to be on the journey with us, doesn't it? As I look over to the other side of my bed, where SG sleeps quietly, I feel incredibly blessed to have him. I watch him as he copes with the life we have today, and I am both impressed and grateful. He is actively working to find alternative ways to get around. Tuesday he has an intake conversation with the transit bus people: it the bus that comes to your home and takes you to your destination. It's part of our local bus service; you need to qualify (I'm sure he will) and then you get to use it.

The next week will bring the holidays to so many of us, and soon we will enter a new year, a new beginning, with spring not that far away. I hope you will enjoy a wonderful holiday, and that we will meet here again next week to ring in the New Year together. Until then, I wish you all good things. Be well, dear friends.

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.

Weathery and windy

Some of the great crew

 I love my volunteer work very much. Every Thursday and Friday I join others, like the ones in this picture, to set up the lunchroom, serve the clients who come every day (not everyone comes every day, but many do), and clean up the place after it's all over. I am totally impressed with the system, which seems to work pretty seamlessly when everybody shows up who is on the schedule. You notice we seem to be mostly female, but we have some great guys who join us too.

After we arrive in the lunchroom around 10:30, we work pretty constantly until 1:00, when everybody needs to have left so the next project can take place in the lunchroom. This past Friday we saw a tap-dancing class come in when we finished. By 1:00, we will have taken all the tables down (there are 11 of them, each seating six. It works out well, actually, and during lunch, the regulars will find a seat and enjoy the wonderful lunch that the cooks have prepared for them. On days when salmon or salisbury steak is served, it can get very crowded. The place can accommodate up to 175 over the period. Mostly people eat and leave, especially if we are truly crowded and there are no seats left. But many come every day not only to eat, but also to have social connections.

This past week, I had an appointment in Fairhaven to have my ear wax cleaned out. I found out about this service from one of my yoga companions on Wednesday and called them to find out when I might be able to use their service. It turned out to be 3:00 Friday, the first opening, so I took it. Once we finished our work at the Senior Center, my friend Michelle drove me there, and since there was time before my appointment, we did a little clothes shopping. Michelle is an expert at finding good deals, and I ended up with two blouses before I went into the office. It only took a few minutes before I was seated in a comfortable chair and removed my hearing aids. The woman who did the work was quick and efficient. It didn't hurt, but I did have quite a bit of wax in my left ear, and I listened to the whistling and other interesting sounds as she cleaned them out completely. I was thrilled by the difference between walking in there and walking out: I could HEAR so much better. I had to turn down the volume in both hearing aids before I was comfortable again. It wasn't cheap, but it sure was worth it. I will be back, but she said I shouldn't need another treatment for at least a year.

I sure wish there was something that easy to treat my eyes, but there isn't. As I continue to lose my central vision, it has become quite uncomfortable to drive very far; I only attempt it for short trips in well-known areas, and only when the weather is sunny and bright. I can still function well in most settings, using head lamps when I am outdoors in the dark, like walking to the bus in the morning. Bright lights sure help everything I try to do with my failing eyesight.

However, considering my advancing age and abilities slipping away, I am very fortunate to still continue to function well enough for now. These things don't stay the same, and I am doing everything I know how to keep moving and keep myself going in the right direction for as long as possible. I love my life, and I know how much I love still being able to enjoy almost everything I have always done. 

Being a morning person, I have a routine that helps me start every day with serenity. Once I make a cup of tea and take it back into my bedroom, I slip back into bed, prop myself up with pillows and enjoy the tea while I solve the wordle of the day. It usually takes me about fifteen or twenty minutes, but it so satisfying to start the day with an accomplishment. I do occasionally not get the word, but it's rare. On Sundays,  once my tea is gone and the puzzle solved, I get up, dress, and go onto the front porch to do my Tibetan exercises. It is obvious to me that these essential practices help me start every day with a smile. My dear partner still sleeps next to me, being a night person who goes to bed long after I do, and I then get up and tiptoe out, hoping not to wake him. John will be coming to pick me up at 7:15 for our usual Sunday breakfast.

I also realize how lucky I am to have found a virtual community that I care deeply about. If I have time before getting up, I sometimes have the time to read blogs that were posted since I last visited The Old Reader, which lists them for me, and I read them every day. If you are one of my  virtual friends, I read about your life and usually leave a comment. It is a community that didn't exist a few decades ago, but for those I follow, it's been part of my life to care about your trials, tribulations, and concerns. It helps give me some perspective on life, as we are all on this boat together. So, don't ever forget how important you are to at least one of your followers.

And now it's time to get up. I wish you, my dear friends, all good things in the coming week. Until we meet again, be well.

No Kings Day

Before the rally

Yesterday, before the No Kings Rally in Bellingham started, I got there early, having gone to the ecoffee shop with Steve and then we went to a short walk. We decided to go to the site of the upcoming rally and see how it looked before the throngs would arrive. Before Steve left to join a scheduled breakfast, we did see how the scene for the No Kings Rally.

Me and new friend Roseann

I found a spot on a bench and made myself comfortable, and in the process I met a new friend, Roseann, who shared the bench with me for awhile. It was spitting a little light rain, but nothing to worry about. I was well dressed with a jacket and my raincoat over it. 

By the time I was deciding to walk around and take pictures, as more and more people arrived, I saw that many of whom were dressed in costumes: a red Handmaid's Tale outfit, lots of inflatable whatsis, and even a few seven-foot-tall people on stilts. It was a lot of fun, and I kept getting overcome by emotion as I saw more and more people showing up. This is the best final picture I was able to get:

It was so much bigger than this

Once I arrived home, which was by bus, I was a little damp but not really soaked as I would have been had I gone home later. During the rally, our spirits rose and we all had a fun time together. I walked back to the bus station and turned on the TV to see what the rallies looked like in other parts of the country. It was an incredible turnout, all in all, and I'll be interested to see what the final numbers will be from across the country.

San Francisco 

I found this information from the Independent about how many were protesting in the streets of America:

Nearly 7 million people across the country turned out for the second “No Kings” protests against President Donald Trump and his administration, marking the largest single-day demonstration against a sitting president in modern history, organizers said.

Looking at the weather through pictures, it looks like it was really nice across most of the country. We had some rain, but that is to be expected here in the Pacific Northwest. I am so glad to have had the chance to be a part of this historic event. Even though my eyes are getting worse, as long as I can still walk and function in the world, I will remain a happy old gal. And continue to write and read posts.

Time goes by, and since I know there is only one direction to travel with my eyesight, I sometimes get a little down over it all, but I can also be happy to be doing as well as I am. I saw several people whom I have hiked with in the past, and we were very happy to be out there together, adding our protests to the world. It is a very good life, and I live in one of the best places in the country, so it seems wrong to focus on what's wrong with the world and not on what's right. 

And here I sit, quiet surrounding me as my sweet partner still sleeps next to me, and I know that John will pick me up in his truck/chariot and transport me to Fairhaven for our usual Sunday breakfast. Yes, there is much to be grateful for, and I choose love and light instead of gloom. Why not? Isn't life to be cherished as long as we have it? I continue to be surrounded by good thoughts and good people, so I am content. I hope you have a wonderful week, dear friends. Until we meet again, be well.

Wet, soggy but delightful

Wet pavement and brilliant trees

 Yesterday, I met Steve and John at the coffee shop and we decided, as a group, to stay out of the weather, which was unremittingly wet, and go instead to a local restaurant (the Daisy) for breakfast. I sure didn't have much desire to pile on the rain gear I brought, just in case I could be cajoled into braving the weather. Nope, nobody else was champing at the bit to go catch some rainbows. We enjoyed a very nice breakfast, and then John headed home, reminding me that we would see each other on Sunday (today) for our usual Fairhaven breakfast.

Steve and I waffled a bit before deciding to just go for a drive around town in his nice warm (and dry) car. That picture above was taken on Cordata Parkway, before we found a parking place at the community college where he works, and he took me on a tour of the Chemistry Department. The college is quite beautiful at every time of the year. I see the campus a few times a week on my bus ride to the Senior Center North, for my yoga classes.

Gentle scene from the first floor

There was a time, not so long ago, that I would not let a little thing like rain stop me from going on a hike. But that was then, and I've decided that it's just fine for me to stay inside and wrap myself in a favorite blanket and sit in my favorite chair.  And now that I am just a few months away from my eighty-third birthday, I have been telling new friends that I am already 83. Gotta get used to those huge numbers gradually, right?

I had a great week, considering everything going on. I have been trying to keep my spirits up as I watch my beloved country struggling every day with the politics of it all. I try to pretend that we will be all right, but I have my fingers crossed most of the time, hoping it will indeed turn out for the best.

I worked in the lunchroom both Thursday and Friday, getting more than 10,000 steps each day, and I talked to my sister Norma Jean for an hour or two on Wednesday. She lives in Florida, and I live in Washington State, thousands of miles apart but connected to each other by love, decades of life, and the internet. She's never known a world without me in it. And I cannot imagine my world without her presence. Fortunately, we are both in pretty good shape for our ages (she's two+ years younger and never lets me forget it). One of my favorite actresses, Diane Keaton, just died this week, and it reminds me once again that we are, each one of us, headed for the same fate, although I think she was too young to die, only 79. As I age, I find that anybody younger than me should still be vigorous and healthy. That is getting harder as I know that it's a privilege to be an octogenarian, not at all guaranteed. 

Steve outside his office and labs

It ended up raining just under an inch yesterday, with the same amount forecasted for today. It's been awhile since we've had that much rain, so it was really needed for the ground to get saturated before the cold comes. I am ready for the change in weather, and I look forward to continuing to enjoy the beautiful world that surrounds me. Although I can no longer see it clearly, it's still there, and I am still able to walk to the bus, take care of the seniors who look forward to my ministrations, and stay active, although in a limited capacity.

I have so much to be grateful for, but it's not easy watching my eyesight continue to deteriorate, slowly but surely. Of all the maladies I could have imagined befalling me, losing my ability to see clearly is not one I would wish on anybody. But apparently the rest of my physical body is doing well. I get to visit the dentist in the middle of the week, which I really don't like but see the necessity for the cleaning and examination of another part that is gradually deteriorating. *Sigh* I can either lament getting older or embrace it and make the best of it. Fortunately everybody I love and hang out with are also on this journey with me, so I am not alone.

You, my favorite virtual friends, are finding your own ways through the maze. I am jost so glad you are still around, still here to tell me about your own worlds and how you are coping. I send a heartfelt prayer in your direction, letting you know that you are not alone. Climb on board and let's see what adventures lie ahead this coming year. It bodes well for us all that we are still connected and engaged in life. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Into the fading dreams of yesteryear

Spooky times are here again

This delightful decoration is something that I have enjoyed from this nearby neighbor every year. It's always a little different. They have good Halloween stuff, and then wonderful Christmas stuff, before they put it all to bed for the winter. These are mostly new this year, and I especially love the dancing skeletons. (Makes me wonder if they show any difference between males and females, since the pelvic structure should be different for each gender. Right?)

Yesterday, I walked with my friend Steve for the first time since he moved and spent several Saturdays dedicated to getting his several-years-long home moved into a smaller apartment, but one that should be adequate for him and his children, when they visit (two, a boy and a girl. If you can call people in their twenties children. But you know how it is: your kids will always be your kids and expected not to age too quickly.) My son Chris lived to be forty, had a full life and then joined the Army in his thirties. I'm glad he met Silvia, whom he married while he was stationed in Germany. She had a son who was a boy of ten or eleven when they got together. She spoke very little English, so I never got a chance to know her well. Nobody expected Chris to die so young, but I for one am glad he got to experience matrimony and fatherhood, even if he wasn't the boy's the biological father. 

Chris has been gone since 2002, more than two decades. I don't think of him often, but he used to visit my dreams fairly regularly. Not so much now, for some reason; maybe it's because he's reincarnated and is busy living another life. I like to think that we might actually get more than one chance to go around the Universe. But who knows?

I was a very young mother, just shy of my nineteenth birthday when he was born. Neither of us knew what we were doing when we first met, after his unremarkable birth. He weighed seven pounds, seven ounces, and was a pretty normal looking newborn. We were both at the Army Base Hospital, on a ward with seven other mothers. I was the ony one attempting to breastfeed; the others were happy to have their milk dried up and give their babies formula. I don't remember now why I was so adamant about wanting to nurse him. In the early 1960s, it was just not done, and I would turn my rocker around so that I didn't have to watch the other mothers with their bottles. I ended up breastfeeding him for almost six months and wish I had kept it up, but the pressure was still there to join the others and I figured that I gave him a good start in life.

In those days, giving birth was treated very differently than it is today. I was kept in the hospital for several days, and when I gave birth in a civilian hospital to my second child three years later, I wasn't even kept overnight. Thinking of my life as a mother, I am reminded of many memories of happy, laughing babies and a happy mother. Everything changed when Stephen, my second child, contracted spinal meningitis and died. My marriage ended, and I entered a long period of depression. Eventually, however, I rejoined the world and put my sorrows behind me. The one who paid the highest price was Chris, who not only lost his brother, but his mother as well. Derald, his father, stepped up and really helped Chris through that hard period. I was of no help at all.

I had a wonderful job for years, working at the National Center for Atmospheric Research in Boulder, Colorado, and I got to travel extensively, including many trips to Southeast Asia. Now, here I am, an elderly woman living out her retirement years, with the wonderful man I met while skydiving in the early 1990s. SG and I have now been together for more than three decades, and although we are both dealing with health issues, that's pretty normal for people our age. It's been over a decade since I last made a skydive, but the memories I cherish of those days will remain with me forever. At least I hope so! I no longer take anything for granted, including keeping my mental capacity intact. Losing my sight has been no picnic, but I am adapting, and I can still type on my laptop and read the blogs of some of my dear friends in the blogosphere. It's like my virtual family, actually; I have been following some for decades and feel invested in their lives. I've lost a few friends over the years, and it's no easier than if we saw each other daily. When I think of how different my life would be without you all, I continue to be filled with gratitude for what I can still enjoy every single day.

Lavender at the harbor

I am not sure whether you can see the pretty color of the lavender I saw yesterday at the harbor, because I wanted to try to find a way to share the delight with you through my camera lens. And I am hoping that you will also find a way to share some beauty in your own life with others. It feels good, and looking at the world through a lavender tint makes me happy. Today John will pick me up and transport me to Fairhaven for our usual Sunday breakfast, and then I will return home to share my day with my guy, which will punctuate with hugs and laughter. 

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

Beautiful fall days

Coffee shop antics

Yesterday I got to spend some time at the coffee shop with two of my best friends: Lily and Steve. Because when the day began, it was dark and cloudy with some rain, Steve offered to pick me up and transport me to the coffee shop, and I took him up on it. I knew that he would not be going on a walk with me yesterday morning, since he still has plenty of stuff to do after moving out of his home of several years.

Frankly, I haven't had the same feeling about my walking routine since I quit the Trailblazers and have been getting exercise in different ways lately. Mainly, the two afternoons I work as a volunteer at the Senior Center, which usually gives me each of those days a minimum of 10,000 steps during the job of setting up, serving the patrons, hustling coffee and tea, and finally the cleaning up and breakdown stage. That activity, plus yoga and shorter walks, seems to be helping me reach my exercise goals rather easily. My Watch keeps track of whether I am getting as much activity this year as I did last, and most days shows that I am not slacking. However, that said, I notice that I seem to be putting on some unwanted weight, which could be because I also get two really good Senior Center takeout meals on the days that I work. Not to mention that I seem to be drinking more beer and wine these days, for various reasons

In the above picture, taken by Steve, you can see Lily and I playing on my iPad with an old set of pictures, where we used an app to make ourselves into cats, with whiskers, ears, and eye makeup, no less. When I looked at that shot, I realized I am not only looking older, but my face is much fuller. (The picture on the iPad was taken almost five years ago. Lily doesn't look all that different, though.) Nothing is quite as stressful as having to work to button my pants, I must say. Maybe I'll go on a diet soon, but I'm not finding the impetus just quite yet. I'll bet I am almost ten pounds over my usual weight, but the scale that would tell me the truth is not being used. It keeps trying to catch my eye but I pretend that I don't see it.

Farmers' Market fall flowers

After Steve left, Lily and I walked to the Farmers' Market and enjoyed seeing all the wares and especially the beautiful flowers that emerge this time every year. The clouds cleared and the sun came out. We had a great time looking at everything, and Lily bought a bouquet to take home. Everyone seemed happy and in a good mood. That also lifted my own spirits, too. There is nothing quite as nice as spending hours with my bestie and absorbing all the good vibrations that surrounded us.

We then decided to have lunch at Whole Foods, where we used to go after our Saturday walk, but it has changed and wasn't nearly as good as we remembered. So, that will probably not be repeated, and it was worthwhile to revisit an old haunt and say goodbye to it. We enjoyed being together, as always.

There are so many reasons to be happy with my world today, not least of which is because I live in a place where even when it's fall or wintertime, we have decent weather and don't have to bundle up and haul out snow shovels. Here, the snow stays mostly in the mountains where it belongs.

But there are dark clouds, too: I haven't mentioned my eyes lately, but they continue to change, and not for the better. It is harder and harder to pretend otherwise, but I can still see well enough to write these posts and read books on my Kindle. I still have all of my peripheral vision, but central vision continues to deteriorate. And yesterday, I got a call from my friend John who told me that the results have come back from the tests he took for Parkinson's Disease, and he has it. I looked it up online and realize that he's had symptoms for a long time, but they hadn't interfered much with his daily life. Other than the tremor he developed, he's pretty much the same, just slower. He will continue to go to the gym a couple times a week, since that should slow the progression of the disease. I am sad whenever family and friends get such news, but it's an inevitable part of aging. 

My Guy is going to have a tooth extracted this coming week, on his journey to eventually having a bridge built in his mouth. Other than the discomfort, there is also the expense, which runs into the thousands. But he is resilient and will adjust. We bought a Vitamix blender to help him keep up his food intake of good veggies, even if they do have to be in smoothies, rather than lightly cooked, the way he likes. He has managed to lose weight, even as I have gained. It sure would be nice if I could transfer some of my expanding hips to him, but unfortunately it doesn't work that way. 

However, I am not going to complain about my life, since it's pretty darn good, and I'll be busy looking for new activities that will cheer me up. I've already done the Wordle for today, and I'll play my other favorite games on the New York Times, and I'll hopefully enjoy a good breakfast with John this morning, like we usually do.

I hope you will have a wonderful week ahead, and that you will find ways to enjoy your days, as they move into fall and leave the summer months behind. I am really fortunate to live here with my sweet partner. The days ahead will get colder and wetter, but that's fall and winter for ya. Those months are followed by the inevitable springtime, so as I enjoy the colorful leaves as they carpet the ground, I'll look forward to some cozy evenings in my apartment with my pal. Until we meet again, dear friends, I wish you all good things.

Falling into fall

New display at the Food Co-op

Yes, it's that time again: fall is just a couple days away, meaning that the summer is finally past for the year, and now we begin the time when all the leaves on deciduous trees turn colors and carpet the ground with leaves, and the temperatures will hopefully moderate. I am just not a fan of heat and endless sunshine, much preferring clouds and sun, along with cool breezes and the need to wear gloves and other such cold-weather attire.

Fall begins this year at 11:19am on Monday, September 22, here in the Northern Hemisphere of Planet Earth, Pacific Time. I am always amazed that our planet is large enough to have a Northern and Southern Hemisphere, meaning that the Equator is where we change from one hemisphere and we move from warm to cool weather, and on the other side, we move from cool to warm weather. I've never spent any time at the Equator, although I did go there once when I visited the Galapagos Islands. From my very insulated perspective, I am at the center of the Universe, and my planet and star are right at the center of everything. Of course, this only seems so because I am a small insignificant little organism, one that (in the Cat Stevens song) "only dances on the earth for a short while," but the rest of our vast Universe is unknown to me and the rest of us on this tiny blue sphere. I feel quite blessed to have been born at a time when my species has begun to expand our knowledge through telescopes and astronomers who study our place in the scheme of things. If I had my life to live over, I would have become an astronomer. But instead, I spent (or may I should say squandered) my earlier years studying boys and the fashions of the times. I was only a mediocre student, not really interested in the world at large, much less the vast universe in which we live.

But I discovered science fiction at an early age, in my teens, and that was what expanded my horizons. Unfortunately, nobody was at all interested in my interests or even my lackluster grades. Plus, I was a GIRL during a time when nobody expected me to excel at anything, other than perhaps how many babies I might have. Times have changed, but I can only ponder how different my life would have been in a different setting and time. But in any event, as I look back at my life, it's been a very good one, even without children to continue to raise or grandchildren. Instead, I have a fantastic partner, who is my age, and who takes care of me wonderfully, even through his own tribulations.

We got our Covid shots on Thursday. The local pharmacy has walk-in clinics in the afternoon, and we got there just as they opened their doors around 2:00pm. We filled out some paperwork and sat down to wait our turn. I was the first person seen, and before I knew what had happened, I had received the shot. It was one of the new batch and different from previous shots I've received. It stung when it went in, no surprise there, but by the time I was ready for bed, my arm really hurt. Friday and Saturday it was pretty sore, but this morning, Sunday, there is only a tiny residual soreness. We wanted to get our shots before they might be curtailed by the government, although we live in Washington state, where it might be awhile before we start to see some problems that other states will deal with first. Our state has joined together with the other West Coast states (and Hawaii) to create our own Covid commission, giving us the latest formulation and ability to access them without having to pay,

One of the best things about have a blog is being able to search for stuff that happened already, and I found it was last September when we got Covid. I didn't remember being all that sick, but the post reminded me that it was no picnic. You can read the post here, if you're interested. Since I re-read how sick I was, I am not willing to go without a Covid shot. I'm a year older, too. My Guy received not only the shot for Covid, but also one for the flu. I am not willing to do both at once, and will get a flu shot later in the season.

Anyway, I realize that I am running out of time to write much more, before it will be time to get up and start the rest of my day. John will be here in less than an hour, and I need to get my exercises done and take my vitamins before that happens. And by the time I write in here next week, hopefully I will be healthy and happily looking at all the new fall colors in the trees. They are already looking wonderful, but there is more to come.

With that, I will begin the rest of my day. I've already read some blogs and done the Wordle, and had a nice conversation with SG, who got up to visit the bathroom and I took the opportunity to read what I had already written to him. But the time is slipping away, so I will bring this to a close, with a fervid wish that all of us will be happy and relatively healthy until we meet again next week. It's a beautiful time of the year in my neighborhood, so hopefully I'll get some pictures to share with you then.

Don't forget to appreciate the world we share. It's beautiful here and hope it is where you live, too. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things, dear friends.