Living each day as it comes

Me and new friend Steve at Farmers' Market

We are enjoying what for me is a new treat: I have now been introduced to Shave Ice by Steve, when we went to the Farmers' Market yesterday after our second walk together. This time we went a little farther, down to the Ferry Terminal, giving us about a six-mile walk. Here I thought it was me taking him for walks, but it turns out he walks several miles every day, and I am the fortunate one who gets to join him on his Saturday outings. More about Steve later.

If you read my other blog, you know that last Wednesday, my friend John felt a little woozy and out of sorts, so he took himself off to the doctor's office to get his vitals checked out. He ended up being admitted to the hospital, where he stayed for two days and came home in the afternoon on Friday. So he was back at the coffee shop yesterday morning, Saturday, but things will be different from here on out: he has been told to stay away from caffeine and to follow a low-fat diet. I guess they would like to see him lose a few pounds but to do it without any medications. He opted for a large cup of chai, which has a small amount of caffeine, but hopefully not enough to get his heart rate up. He'll be trying different drinks to replace his daily dose of coffee.

Getting those extra pounds off will be more of a struggle, I suspect. In all the years I've known John, he has tried many different ways and methods to lose weight, all of which work in the short run but just don't last. This is not any different from the myriad sufferers who carry extra weight and try everything they can to lose it. But John has a strong motivator: his COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder) and asthma will be much improved by even a modest weight loss. I'm hoping that he will be successful with his current efforts. The doctors and nurses weren't able to do much to help him breathe better right now: a new inhaler and an admonition to stay away from caffeine and lose some weight. He's a little discouraged at the moment, I can tell.

It would also help if he could get more exercise, but he isn't even able to go dancing any more, because of his breathing difficulties. That's one of those unfortunate consequences of aging: we lose our ability to do what we enjoy, a little at a time, until all the fun stuff is past tense and it's just a struggle to continue to maintain a positive attitude and keep on truckin'.

About my own exercise: I chose not to go out on that hike last Thursday, leery of the heat and fearful that I might not be able to manage. It turned out that only four Trailblazers attempted the hike, and although they were all strong and capable, they had to deal with bugs and the heat. I'll hear how it all went when I join the Happy Wanderers next Tuesday. Although it's a different hiking group, there is a lot of overlap between them, not to mention hearing tales of derring-do! Now that's an interesting phrase, isn't it? I looked it up and learned this:

In Middle English, dorring don meant simply "daring to do." The phrase was misprinted as derrynge do in a 15th-century work by poet John Lydgate, and Edmund Spenser took it up from there.

 I love having the entire universe of fun facts at my fingertips. And I do take advantage of that ability almost daily. Sorry to have taken us off on a tangent like that, but I couldn't help myself. Now back to my coffee shop adventure and the rest of the walk with Steve.

As we walked, Steve did his thing of petting every dog that came his way after asking for permission. Since I mentioned he seemed partial to larger dogs, he took pains to pet even the little "ankle biters," as I think of them. I was surprised to see he didn't even see to mind when a dog would jump up in his face and lick him. (I personally hate that.)

On his last legs

This sweet dog stopped to allow Steve to pet him for awhile, and the owner said he is a rescue that he's had since he got him as a puppy sixteen years ago. He said a few days ago they thought it was over for him, and the entire family cried about the need to euthanize their dear friend. Then incredibly, the dog (whose name I never learned) rallied and was out for a walk on the boulevard on a sunny day. I am always amazed that even as they lose their hearing and eyesight, and even their ability to walk, dogs seem to be able keep their noses working right up to the end. I feel fortunate to have met this canine soul and to have been part of his final life experience. The worst thing about our pets is that they don't live long enough, but they have taught me that life's best times are those little instants that become cherished memories, not the years that pass by unremarkably.

I have decided that Steve has a heart of gold, and now that I've become one of his admirers, he's tucked me into a corner of that soft heart of his. One of the fun things about walking with a friend is learning more about each other, and although I no longer have my friend Melanie's company, another person has emerged to fill the void. On the boulevard walk, we ran into the Saturday walking group of ladies I joined for years before the pandemic, and they encouraged me to come back again. Since their leader, Cindy, is a retired race walker, they keep up a pace I find hard to match, but they told me that they too have slowed down, and that I should give them a try once again. I might do that, who knows? It's nice to have so many options.

I didn't get much sleep last night, not because of the heat this time, but because one of our neighbors decided to mow his lawn at sunset, and the chaff came into our open window and caused me to start sneezing. After a quick squirt of my allergy medicine, I tried to get to sleep, but then a barking dog interrupted my efforts. It's going to be one of those days, I guess, but I do know that tonight I won't have a problem falling asleep. Our weather the past few days has been idyllic: mid-seventies (F) with a light breeze, while the rest of the country swelters. Actually, the entire Northern Hemisphere seems to be suffering from excess heat, except for a tiny little northwest corner of the US. I won't rub it in, instead I'll enjoy every little bit of it and hope for a break in the heat for you.

As I said in my title, I will continue to enjoy each and every day as it comes, and never take for granted these moments of reflection and contentment. I hope that you will find some joy and beauty in your days ahead, and that when you join me once again, you'll have some sweet moments of serenity to look back on. My dear partner sleeps quietly next to me, and John will be coming by soon to take me out to our Sunday morning breakfast in our new caffeine-less world (for him, that is). 

Until we meet again next week, dear virtual family, I wish you all good things. Be well and don't forget to count your blessings, of which there are many if you look for them.