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.