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.