Thirteen years

Cherry tree in bloom

We moved into this apartment complex thirteen years ago now, and this tree was the first thing I saw as we pulled into the parking lot, with SG driving a U-Haul and me driving my silver Honda Civic. He had made an earlier trip to the area and found this place for us, left his own car and flew back to Boulder. The two of us arrived April 17, 2008 to begin our retirement years. This seemed like a good place to gain a foothold in the area. We did move from one end of the complex to the other in 2012, but otherwise it's been our home all these years. Twenty-six units make up the place, with lots of open area around us, which has changed over time, but it's quiet and mostly serene, and we see no reason to move anywhere else.

Many tenants have come and gone, and our rent has almost doubled over that time, but we have a community garden in the back, a large front porch and two entrances to the unit, which I had never enjoyed in an apartment before. I think it's a wonderful addition to apartment living. We live simply and have good relationships with our neighbors. People are mostly respectful of each other's space, and most of the children are on the far end of the complex. I do occasionally hear them playing and find the sound soothing, much as I find the birdsong coming from the trees.

It's not ideal, but it comes as close to ideal as we could find around here, and we are happy to be renters and not owners. We try to live lightly on the land and have only modest needs. This past year during the pandemic has been hard in many ways, but it would have been the same wherever we lived. Our county is undergoing a resurgence of the virus, but it seems to be getting under control, and most of the community is respectful of the need for masking and social distancing. We are in what is called Phase 3 of reopening, meaning that restaurants, gyms and bars can have up to half capacity in their facilities.

So much has changed during this past year, but we are slowly but surely regaining some normalcy, although I am still doing my yoga classes through Zoom, and frankly I prefer it in many ways. Once we return to the studio, only a few people at a time will be able to be inside, and we will need to bring our own mats, blankets and other props. Being in enclosed spaces still bothers me, even after having been fully vaccinated. I shop at the local Costco during senior hours, and mostly spend my time in close contact with only a few regulars. The coffee shop is still closed for anything other than buying takeout. I really miss hanging out inside. My usual spot these days is the passenger seat in John's truck. It's so much better than not having any place at all to visit. The weather, however, is now beginning to warm up enough to gather outside. 

Our ten-day warm streak of full sunshine is gone, and now it's just a rainy drizzle and makes the warm cab in John's truck much more inviting than sitting around outdoors. Once I finish my post and take care of the usual morning activities, I'll drive to the coffee shop and enjoy a latte with him. And I will be very happy when we will once again gather indoors to log onto our iPads and share stories. That is a ways in the future, however. I need to be happy with what we do have, and to be grateful that I can still get outside to enjoy life.

I'm trying to change my rather gloomy mood right now. Last week I finally made it to the dentist's office for a cleaning and an exam. It had been well over a year, and I knew I needed it, although I'm one of those people who rarely appreciates having good dental care until something really hurts. Everything checked out well, except for one back molar, which has a deep "pocket" and needs to be extracted, according to the dentist. My options are limited, but since there is no pain from that tooth, I am really skeptical about the necessity for losing it. I've never had any tooth pulled except for two bottom wisdom teeth long ago. My two top ones never descended and have never given me any problems.

I did get my dentist to agree to give me a prescription for two valium pills, one to be taken the night before, and the other the morning of the procedure. But of course the whole process is constantly on my mind. I have two more weeks before the big day. In my Trailblazers weekly Zoom meeting, I heard horror stories that have NOT helped me feel better about it at all. I'm wondering if maybe I should get a second opinion about the necessity of going through all this. But then again, it seems quite common for people in their old age to lose teeth. I'm willing to consider anything, but I sure don't need to hear more stories about what might happen. My dear husband has had two pulled during the past few years, and he didn't go through anything so horrific, so maybe I'm just making it all up. But it sure is on my mind a great deal of the time.

Other than that, however, I seem to be doing quite well overall. Although my sister Norma Jean likes to brag that she doesn't have any aches and pains, mine seem to be mostly in check at the moment. Never does a day go by when I don't have to nurse something that hurts; usually it's my knees or my right ankle, but one grows accustomed to having these little annoyances. At least I do. 

I wonder sometimes how much my daily exercises help me. Every morning I perform the Five Tibetan Rites, and I realize it's now been almost a decade that they have been part of my daily routine. Several friends have also been doing them, and one thing I know for sure is that they have helped me with my lower back pain. I also try very hard to get 10,000 steps on my iPhone every day, but lately it's been hit and miss. When I was going to the hi-lo aerobics class four times a week at the gym, it was no problem: the class always gave me more than half of them in an hour. I wonder if that class will resume someday. If so, I'll be there. I miss all those fellow regulars who were there along with me and wonder if there will ever be a time when we'll be back together. It's been hard to let go of what I loved.

Everybody has to deal with tough times. A gold medal doesn't make you immune to that. A skater is used to falling down and getting up again. —Dorothy Hamill

You know I couldn't end this post without finding a quote from somebody, and once I started looking I found this one from Dorothy Hamill. I am very used to falling down and getting up again, I do it almost every day. And the need I have for routine means spending some of my Sunday morning reading quotes, looking for just the right one to leave you with. It was the image of Dorothy trying and failing, and getting up again and again that stayed with me. 

And with that, I have reached the end of another Sunday morning post. Now I can get up and out of bed, while my dear partner still sleeps next to me. The sun has already risen, but it's cloudy and drizzly out there, not exactly calling me to get on with things, but you know I will. It's my nature. And I do hope, dear friends, that this coming week will bring you joy. Life is good and I'm looking on the bright side. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things.