tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1975971028801016912024-03-19T01:48:14.090-07:00Eye on the EdgeInstead of working for brevity, I will work to examine issues in my life as honestly as I know how.DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.comBlogger750125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-15837598181806620992024-03-17T05:49:00.000-07:002024-03-17T05:49:37.316-07:00More than a quarter century ago<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6jH6GQYhC_E-d2Gq07jTuJNCekgMGTGoDq2ioF0Z4tPhT0VpaiJPMIput_O4HTUGV8m1aKUCw2cAMsgulNae1Qe8-yjnr5uLWxI6shhtq3ZBVOIg5fggl31RAa-lTXGEGlCWTWzyU3tRNJ0vtKZy1gXYFcg1EgYVp6PBE3lcxXhM5ii1n0LDgwhLxtE/s1056/inca2.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="685" data-original-width="1056" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6jH6GQYhC_E-d2Gq07jTuJNCekgMGTGoDq2ioF0Z4tPhT0VpaiJPMIput_O4HTUGV8m1aKUCw2cAMsgulNae1Qe8-yjnr5uLWxI6shhtq3ZBVOIg5fggl31RAa-lTXGEGlCWTWzyU3tRNJ0vtKZy1gXYFcg1EgYVp6PBE3lcxXhM5ii1n0LDgwhLxtE/w400-h260/inca2.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Machu Picchu</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>It was in 1981 when I went to Peru, my first international trip. I had always wanted to visit Machu Picchu, but I had never gone farther afield than Mexico before I spent six weeks in Peru, adventuring in what was supposed to be a solo trip. My friends were horrified that I would even contemplate doing such a thing, so they hooked me up with another young woman who was looking for a traveling companion: Marla (I have forgotten her last name). She knew little to no Spanish and was a strict vegetarian to boot. This was a long time ago, before cellphones, before even the internet communities that we rely on these days were even around. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQFhXHe2RsL5LLfO5HN3-4kU36b3JNebHVqoCa0Fc4tgfPwiSWK7P6fS5giPb4qPbQeJtf-aPrITaC-3NKrcx09hb_tyahVVCilcruvm58pS1cQbg9_TqTRBWwh3AWgv333_3Qso_HH8c-Onv59B3-NTjwTYjb1QmAAd4zwWXYBemNbdcrh46lfZVdv8/s991/peru1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="991" data-original-width="695" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQFhXHe2RsL5LLfO5HN3-4kU36b3JNebHVqoCa0Fc4tgfPwiSWK7P6fS5giPb4qPbQeJtf-aPrITaC-3NKrcx09hb_tyahVVCilcruvm58pS1cQbg9_TqTRBWwh3AWgv333_3Qso_HH8c-Onv59B3-NTjwTYjb1QmAAd4zwWXYBemNbdcrh46lfZVdv8/w280-h400/peru1.jpeg" width="280" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Marla, high in the Andes</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>It was on the flight to Peru that I first realized that we were very different people, with different ideas of what we would be experiencing in Peru. The one thing I wanted (other than to see Machu Picchu) was a chance to get into the Andes and walk among those magnificent mountains. Marla was looking for adventure, and someone who would help her navigate a foreign country (which I had never been to, so why she was so determined that I was the perfect traveling companion, I will never know).</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I just looked back in my old posts and found that I've written about this Peruvian trip before, so I'm going to lift some of the text from 2011 and 2021 posts, since in re-reading them, I can't make them better. But then I'll return to the current moment to finish the post. Is it considered plagiarizing when you lift from your own stuff? </div><div><br /></div><div>******</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Marla knew not one word of Spanish and needed someone to help her with the language. Although certainly not fluent, I knew enough Spanish to get by. And so, in October 1981, we flew to Lima and stayed at a hostel, before deciding to travel to Cusco, where we would be able to take a train to the beginning of the trail. Most people took three or four days to travel through the minor Incan ruins before coming to the main attraction, Machu Picchu. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have learned since then that traveling to Machu Picchu is entirely different today. Now there is a luxury hotel near the site, and a cable car takes tourists from there to the main ruins. A friend went there a few years ago, and the pictures he showed me looked nothing like the place I visited so long ago. You even have to queue in long lines to get in. Totally different from my experience.</div><div><br /></div><div>Marla and I took a local train to Kilometer 88, where we began the 26-mile-long trip. We got off the train with about a dozen other hikers from all over the world. I think we were the only Americans and nobody else spoke any English. Everybody strapped on their backpacks and took off at a fast pace. We waited until the last, and then when we were on the trail itself, we saw very few other hikers during the next days. I found this site that tells about the trip.</div><div></div><blockquote><div><i>The trip begins in the town of Qorihuayrachina, at kilometer 88 of the Quillabamba railway - Cusco and takes 3 to 4 days of strenuous hiking, it is the road that takes tourists to Machu Picchu. The route consists of an impressive variety of altitudes, climates and ecosystems ranging from the Andean plain to the cloud forest.</i></div></blockquote><div>Today, you are expected to stay in the campgrounds that exist along the trail, but in those days you just had to find a place to camp on your own. There were no porta-potties or even water sources that seemed safe. We used iodine drops in our water to keep from picking up bacteria. It was a very memorable adventure, and it reminds me that I have been making long and difficult hikes for much longer than I remembered. I made this trip a full decade before I discovered skydiving and stopped everything else, including backpacking and strenuous hikes. </div><div><br /></div><div>During the two months I spent in Peru, I made four different trips into the mountains, two with Marla, and two with other solo hikers I met while staying in hostels that catered to tourists like me. These days, I am actually a bit surprised and impressed with the adventurous spirit that I seemed to have back then. And so much has transpired in my life since that time. Looking back, I am so glad that I was able to have such exciting events and still have a few memories that recall such a distant adventure.</div><div><br /></div><div>Although I am much older now and my hair is white and my body much used and abused, I can still walk several miles at a time and enjoy being outdoors, breathing fresh air and taking in the sunshine. I will continue to do all this until the day comes when I must stop. Fortunately, it is not happening today or tomorrow, I hope. I will give it all I have until that day comes.</div><blockquote><div><i>If you don't design your own life plan, chances are you'll fall into someone else's plan. And guess what they have planned for you? Not much.</i> —Jim Rohn</div></blockquote></div><div><div>We carried a tent and iodine drops to treat whatever water we might find. After those three days of hiking, we crested a hill and looked down on Machu Picchu, with Huayna Picchu (the big mountain behind the ruins) resplendent in all its glory. </div><div><br /></div><div>When we arrived early in the morning, there were only a few fellow hikers there, but as the day went on, busload after busload of tourists arrived from Cusco so they could walk around the ruins and then be transported back to town. I climbed to the top of Huayna Picchu after touring through the ruins. I felt that the bused tourists' experience of the place could not be anywhere like mine, since I had actually WALKED there.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't even remember what kind of camera I had with me, but of course it had film back then and I didn't see my pictures until I arrived back home in Boulder. Funny, now that seems so strange since I'm used to seeing my pictures instantaneously. Life has changed a great deal, in ways that no one could have predicted. But one that is the same today, I'm still hiking.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>*******</div><div><br /></div><div>Okay, back to the present moment. It's odd to re-read what I wrote about this trip so many years ago, but the memory is still very strong and continues to be a bright spot in all my years of living. I also realized, in finding this information, that I have been hiking for longer than I had recalled earlier. I was going on week-long backpacks in the mid-1970s, so it's been at least a half century of hiking, with a brief quarter-century interlude with skydiving, which caused everything I'd been obsessed with before that fateful day in September 1990 to disappear, when I made my first jump.</div><div><br /></div><div>But now, in my early eighties, I am back to the original passion of my life: hiking. Now that I have the Senior Trailblazers from the Senior Center to hike with, I've continued to enjoy that exercise. And I continue to meet new like-minded friends. Although I miss my old hiking partner, Melanie, when she moved away, we spent the entire pandemic hiking together. Now I am again in a couple of groups, the "Happy Wanderers" and the "Relaxed" hikers. I've left the "Half Fast" group, because they tend to hike faster than I'm comfortable with these days. I no longer feel any need to be completely worn out after a hike.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>My tea is finished, my post is written, and my dear partner still sleeps next to me. It's dark outside, but not for long. We are just a few days away from the first day of spring in the Northern Hemisphere, and the sun is expected to shine unremittingly all day long, just as it did yesterday. The trees are flowering, the daffodils are up, and soon it will be time to visit the tulip gardens in Skagit Valley. We made it through another winter, and I am happy to report that my aging bones are still able to carry me out the door and into the Pacific Northwest paradise. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I hope you have a wonderful few days, too. Be well.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-42862769812734274682024-03-10T06:03:00.000-07:002024-03-10T06:03:12.547-07:00Another week just flew by<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-7CMgZdR2vYFmAgO0vYmqm-5WMDilV5oH82zyac4DqBSq7rtHwVxgStR6SOOLvUKoKfpjdfwT6RpRB9J4jESoz6tJAaLUO4bx58-84oMzQWfvY6pnw4ffDmIiMsm5pCnuMzIgLd3tNWhU0XvwlPWW8aUK2ZkhWgfotHby3w_CEo6UwtYY_zozUvRtZs/s1280/huntoon2.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-7CMgZdR2vYFmAgO0vYmqm-5WMDilV5oH82zyac4DqBSq7rtHwVxgStR6SOOLvUKoKfpjdfwT6RpRB9J4jESoz6tJAaLUO4bx58-84oMzQWfvY6pnw4ffDmIiMsm5pCnuMzIgLd3tNWhU0XvwlPWW8aUK2ZkhWgfotHby3w_CEo6UwtYY_zozUvRtZs/w400-h300/huntoon2.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, Mt Shuksan, and bird</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>I'm finding it almost impossible to believe that yet another week has gone by, and here I am once again trying to decide what to write about. I found this picture among my collection, and I thought it's worth another view. I was on a snowshoe trip in the High Country one February day a few years ago, when we were inundated with these camp robber birds, also known as gray jays, who were trying to eat our lunch before we had a chance to ourselves. I had some trail mix in my hand, and the bird confidently landed on my fingers and chose a couple of almonds (if I remember correctly) before flying off again. I remember the strength of his talons; he wasn't going anywhere until he got his treat.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been taking winter trips to this area for many years. This was one particularly beautiful sunny day with no wind, and we enjoyed ourselves before heading back down. I was at least as happy to be there as the bird was. I had to return to sea level, but the jay was in his element. One time years ago, I remember one of our hikers lost an entire half of his sandwich to a hungry bird! If you were so careless as to put it aside while you took a sip of water, for example, you might turn back to see that you had indeed been robbed.</div><blockquote><div><div><i>Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better. </i>—Albert Einstein</div></div></blockquote><p>I have spent much of my life in the presence of natural beauty. When I was a girl, moving around from place to place with my family, I didn't much appreciate my surroundings. I was living my extroverted life, making lots of friends everywhere, and believing in the tight-knit family nade up of my parents, my sister Norma Jean, and then my sister PJ, born when I was seven. I never doubted my place in the world, and as I grew older and began to experience the enjoyment of physical exercise, I learned to dance and became a high school cheerleader, my first real foray into pushing myself to do hard tasks that didn't come easily. I rode my bike all around our neighborhoods, and spent more time outdoors than inside. </p><p>It's really different for kids today, who spend so much time in their heads and not playing like we did as kids. We used our imaginations as we played together, Statue, Hide and Seek, Hopscotch, the game of jacks, and Norma Jean and I played with our dolls together a lot in Mama's flower garden. We also read books to one another and sometimes, for fun, we would pull out the dictionary and pick out words to learn. But the main thing is that we were very comfortable being outdoors in all kinds of weather.</p><p>These days, because of technology, so much has changed. That, and the fear of children being abducted or accosted by weirdos. Now many kids don't walk to school, even if they live close by, and if they ride bikes to school, they don't go alone very often. And just like their parents, they usually have smartphones in their hands, unaware of their surroundings. They live their lives in what feels like a different universe from the one I had while growing up. I wonder what the children of today will experience with their own kids one day. </p><p>What I was looking for in those last few paragraphs is trying to find out when I began to spend so much time outdoors. It seems I always did. Do the parents of today's kids still tell them to "go outside and play" like I heard all the time? Or do they just sit somewhere inside or close by and play on their phones? Hard for me to say, since I don't spend much time with little ones any more. My young friend I met at the coffee shop years ago, Leo, grew up, and I haven't seen him in years. He and I spent many hours at the coffee shop playing together, but now he's a teenager and nowhere to be found in my own daily life. I miss those days.</p><p>This past week I went on two different hikes with the Senior Trailblazers, and on the other days I walked from Cornwall Park home, covering a few miles each day. There are only a few days when I don't get outdoors and enjoy the greenery all around me. And I don't take it for granted; my life would be very much less enjoyable if I didn't have the ability to walk around outdoors. That may come one day, but it's not today.</p><p>We lost an hour of sleep last night because of the time change. When I woke this morning, not feeling quite rested, I knew I wouldn't have as much time as usual to write this post, and sure enough, the minutes are slipping by and I still hadn't decided exactly what to write about. I always like to think of something positive and uplifting, since that's what I need for myself to begin my day. I think today's positivity comes from realizing that I am a happy octogenarian on the brink of true old age, but still mentally feeling like the youngster I once was. There's still a spring in my step, even if the feet are now a little arthritic. Where did that bunion come from? I'll just put on a bunion guard and pull my socks over it and keep on going. One day I might need to use a cane to walk, but I will still go outdoors and feel the wind in my thinning hair and raise my face to the morning sun. Or rain, whatever, and be grateful for the many years of time I've had to become who I am today.</p><p>There are so many things for me to be grateful for, but one that I haven't mentioned in awhile is you, my dear virtual friends. I look forward every week to reading your blog posts and finding out what you are doing in your own part of the world. From my many Canadian friends to those on the other side of our beautiful planet, I am so very grateful for the technology that allows me to connect with you like this. The world has changed, it's true, but some things never change: the need to connect with like-minded people, however we do it these days, will always be an integral part of my life.</p><p></p><blockquote><i>At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.</i> —Albert Schweitzer</blockquote><p>Yes, dear friends, that is what this post is about: keeping our own lights shining brightly for as long as we have breath, and helping our fellow travelers find their own light when the need arises. So, until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things. Be well.</p><p></p><div><div></div></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-33210017523347363452024-03-03T06:12:00.000-08:002024-03-03T06:12:35.415-08:00Head still above water<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfNGR2gqCVWebSWGfIbNPTsxCAtsUw5x3kBzdAjlM8D8mZidU3dCI0s3XJHYzOImoQHZIxC_hBOxBPXQhFFKejrZ9CvE_6DdLPoKYkmtGmJkHpVk8cnj_ATf-oq4N0ACuMVaYAy2RKFYwUa90IUqVyozlcDB7HDOslVSiARpYX3MinfMWLJ7HQeZAvApU/s1280/IMG_8902.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfNGR2gqCVWebSWGfIbNPTsxCAtsUw5x3kBzdAjlM8D8mZidU3dCI0s3XJHYzOImoQHZIxC_hBOxBPXQhFFKejrZ9CvE_6DdLPoKYkmtGmJkHpVk8cnj_ATf-oq4N0ACuMVaYAy2RKFYwUa90IUqVyozlcDB7HDOslVSiARpYX3MinfMWLJ7HQeZAvApU/w400-h300/IMG_8902.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don and Jane at Bellingham Bay</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday, Don and Jane and I walked along the Boulevard Park path for a nice morning outing. It rained a little, not much, but the cool temperatures and stiff breeze meant we didn't shed our jackets quickly. Jane turned around at this point and went back to her car, while Don and I continued on to the Ferry Terminal and ended up getting six miles in all. </div><div><br /></div><div>I really needed this walk. Steve is still sick, but I think he'll be back next week. I've got a need to change my unsettled state of mind. I have been watching too much news, and I again woke in the middle of the night in distress, unable to rid myself of the images and stories from the news and allow my mind to quiet.</div><div><br /></div><div>The best way I know to change my state of mind is with a walk. I went to the coffee shop and met Don and Jane, drank coffee and shared some muffins (Jane always buys something to share) and set out in the blustery wind. Before long, I realized that I was feeling better, more centered and happy to be outdoors with good friends. My spirits lifted and I was feeling grateful for the surroundings, the company, and the ability to raise my body temperature to stave off cold hands and actually begin to feel warm as we continued our brisk walk.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last night I slept much better, and I think I got at least a half hour of deep sleep and more than an hour longer in restful sleep than the night before. A good night's sleep is really important for me. Another way I have of changing my mood is to pull myself out of my concentration on the immediate world around me and look at the longer view. Insead of thinking about what body parts hurt this morning, I take a look at the <b><a href="http://apod.nasa.gov">Astronomy Picture of the Day </a></b>to see what amazing picture it has to show me. My favorites are distant galaxies, millions of light-years away from this tiny insignificant blue ball in the outer reaches of the Milky Way, our own galaxy in the vast universe of stars and nebulae and black holes. It never fails to uplift and changes my perspective for the better. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sunday is the only day in the week that feels different to me, more like a holiday from routine, although I have a quite specific routine for the day, it's significantly different from other days. If I haven't been getting my usual exercise during the week, I know I will get a longer walk in the afternoon, if the weather cooperates and isn't blowing or raining too hard. I know that my friend John will pick me up to take me to breakfast in Fairhaven, and I know that I will spend some quality time with SG later in the day. Although it is definitely part of my usual routine, it feels different on Sundays. And very much needed to round out the week, giving me a chance to step back from my usual activities and take a look around at how my life has evolved in today's world. Having been born halfway through the last century, I realize that pretty much everything around me could not have been imagined back then. </div><div><br /></div><div>I remember the days when I would come rushing home from school to listen to a program on the radio with my family. We gathered around a huge box and listened to programs like <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Baby_Snooks_Show">Baby Snooks</a></b> or <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fibber_McGee_and_Molly">Fibber McGee and Molly</a></b>, which were very popular and something that we enjoyed experiencing together. Today, everyone is lost in their own smartphone, separated from everyone else and not having a shared moment. In 1950, I could not have even begun to imagine the world of today, and I'm pretty sure that many of my readers were not even born when these radio shows were popular and available. If you want to learn more about that era, check out this Wikipedia link, <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Age_of_Radio">The Golden Age of Radio</a></b>. It's fascinating to realize how different social media was back then. And now look where we are.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's another thing I would never have imagined: Wikipedia. When I was young, door-to-door salesmen sold massive volumes of encyclopedias to the population. We had an Encyclopedia Brittanica set, and I spent many hours perusing the information about subjects that interested me. It is still in existence. I learned this today:</div><div></div><blockquote><div><i>The encyclopaedia is maintained by about 100 full-time editors and more than 4,000 contributors. The 2010 version of the 15th edition, which spans 32 volumes and 32,640 pages, was the last printed edition. Since 2016, it has been published exclusively as an online encyclopaedia.</i></div><div></div></blockquote><div>I'm surprised that it lasted for so long in print, since our world is now almost completely digital. I visit Wikipedia almost daily, for something or other than I am curious about. I also pay them for the privilege, although it's a pittance when I consider how expensive our brown encyclopedia volumes must have been. Just thinking about the enormous changes that have occurred in our world during the time I've been alive, it does make me wonder what the next century will bring. I won't be around to see it, but I can certainly imagine it. I hope we will learn how to exist on this tiny planet together without war. That is my fervent hope.</div><div><div><blockquote><i>I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality... I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word. </i>—Martin Luther King, Jr.</blockquote><p>Yes to Dr. King. Yes a hundred times over. And now it's time for me to begin the rest of my Sunday routine, now that my post has been written, and I'm feeling ready to spring out of bed (well, maybe not <i>spring</i>) and enjoy whatever is coming my way. I do hope that you will find a good way to spend your day ahead, and that you will be surrounded with unconditional love. Why not? Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.</p><p><br /></p></div></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-19275494361207629022024-02-25T06:17:00.000-08:002024-02-25T06:17:06.773-08:00Present day moments<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLp4DTjNcr8U04GjVzGwAJv9SeE2fFY-cClKWd6OouPodhLjxKElG0IzaQ0l9VEWmEvNGjOYP4ouJ-FQ7MfpXFeYjW8jYo6g7Nu8Aih7beEqx-sw4K4vUxtcYjE7-DE2rCkRV66tFt61eastN26nUqrENzntQHjsEBKmD3dAz0QUmp1jKf6D65pRw45J0/s1280/IMG_8890.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLp4DTjNcr8U04GjVzGwAJv9SeE2fFY-cClKWd6OouPodhLjxKElG0IzaQ0l9VEWmEvNGjOYP4ouJ-FQ7MfpXFeYjW8jYo6g7Nu8Aih7beEqx-sw4K4vUxtcYjE7-DE2rCkRV66tFt61eastN26nUqrENzntQHjsEBKmD3dAz0QUmp1jKf6D65pRw45J0/w400-h300/IMG_8890.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our water taxi at rest in the harbor</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday my friend Don and I walked around Squalicum Harbor under cloudy skies with the occasional spit of rain, covering around five miles. But it was actually quite mild and very nice to be there. Friend Steve is under the weather so he didn't join us. We saw the water taxi that has become such a great source of new adventures, moored in the harbor. We had heard that it has two new propellers; they do look sort of new and shiny. I've gone on three separate excursions into the San Juan islands with them and expect to enjoy many more.</div><div><br /></div><div>After last week's look back into past adventures, I realize how lucky I am to continue to be able to experience so many new exploits. My new acquaintances made through the Bellingham Senior Center continue to add new excitement to present day moments. After having considered what seniors like me need to have in their lives to continue to be healthy, engaged in the world, and willing to embrace every day, I realize once again how important it is to keep a positive outlook on life.</div><div><br /></div><div>And looking forward to my next phase of being alive, I realize once again how fortunate I am to have my health and the ability to walk unaided at my age. While on the harbor, I see many older people exercising with the aid of a walker, or a cane, or being pulled along by a frisky dog. I also realize that one of these days, it might be me out there needing assistance of one sort or another. If so, I do hope I can remember to be grateful for that ability and not moan about what I've lost. When you are an octogenarian, you need to remember that every single day is a gift, and being able to have a brisk walk is not guaranteed to anyone at any age.</div><div><br /></div><div>It also makes me think about that next and final adventure I have ahead: going into the long night. Of laying down in my bed for the last time and closing my eyes to the world I've known for so long. What's ahead in that journey? Will I be suffering from ill health, will I be hoping for release from pain, or will I just fade away? You don't get to my age without thinking about these things, unless you are pretending that it won't happen to you. Everything and everyone that lives must one day transition into its opposite. Some people face it with grace and beauty, while others are angry and bitter that it is happening to them. </div><div><br /></div><div>What occurs to me this fine Sunday morning is to ponder what can I accomplish with whatever number of days, years, decades I have ahead of me? I'm not at all sure that I want to live for decades longer, since I'm losing my eyesight and my walks and adventures have become more circumspect. When I looked back last week at my hikes up mountains in Colorado, I was reminded that I cannot do such things any more. But until I thought about it, I didn't feel any sense of being different today than I was half a century ago. Slow attrition brought about by all these years of living an active life, perfectly normal and expected, unnoticed day to day, but nevertheless a one-way journey we all experience, if we're lucky.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is one thing that hasn't changed: my ability to think and reflect on life. I love to read, which is becoming quite difficult while trying to read books, but I can use my Kindle on its "low vision" setting and read just fine. I can also, I notice, see to read on my laptop and iPad because the light is coming from behind the text, and it's much easier on my eyes that way. </div><div><br /></div><div>There is so much to continue to learn and discover, and I intend to spend the rest of my days doing just that. I want to learn how sages navigate their final years and emulate them. As you know, I am a fan of Buddhist literature, and I also enjoy studying how those who have not been given my advantages learn to cope with adversity. Just learning about the journey Helen Keller traveled through life, after having lost her eyesight and hearing at 19 months, inspires me every day. She lived to be in her late eighties and was grateful for all her life, ending up writing dozens of books and learning to read (through Braille) four different languages, reading books in all of them. She made an indelible imprint on the lives of so many, including me and others who read her books today. Not many authors continue to have books in print for more than a century, but she has accomplished that; her books continue to inspire others to remember the importance of living a good and honest life.</div><div><div><blockquote><i>Treat those who are good with goodness, and also treat those who are not good with goodness. Thus goodness is attained. Be honest to those who are honest, and be also honest to those who are not honest. Thus honesty is attained.</i> —Lao Tzu</blockquote><p> Today I will have an extra hour in the morning, before John comes to pick me up and take me to a different restaurant than usual. He is being treated to a special breakfast by our friends Lily and Lamont to celebrate his 84th birthday. I am also going along because I am usually with John on Sundays, I guess, and they invited me. They have been doing this for several years now, and it's become a tradition. In any event, I don't need to hurry this morning, with an extra hour that will evaporate quickly. It amazes me how just sitting and reading blogs and the news gobbles up time, and as I looked just now at the time I realize that I've already been dawdling and that extra hour is almost gone! Oh well, it happens when you're having fun and not paying attention to time.</p><p>I do hope that you will have a good week ahead, and that you'll spend some part of it thinking about your life as it exists today, and consider what you might be able to accomplish during the week. Remember to spread some of your goodness and honesty into the world around you, and I'll do the same. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.</p><p><br /></p></div></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-77968977729672491462024-02-18T05:27:00.000-08:002024-02-18T05:27:04.641-08:00Remembering adventures<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCyoj6yOTdoVnxdzRYdLFg6aqoi4_qoDrsWIrFMWpn9CQiKIbtgBbtAVSPeBlwPSHGKiT4aOARngRakn5Mvr_Yp8IQPs5JH143s4uvjuE7fkCFlGgFPeYNOArFGh3rQNqxcZGVWNDTPYrKSgjEDPltbH7ToDwE-rvLaKPWaOgm4hXTtwXwrl1R8UDi6Uw/s741/image1_5.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="741" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCyoj6yOTdoVnxdzRYdLFg6aqoi4_qoDrsWIrFMWpn9CQiKIbtgBbtAVSPeBlwPSHGKiT4aOARngRakn5Mvr_Yp8IQPs5JH143s4uvjuE7fkCFlGgFPeYNOArFGh3rQNqxcZGVWNDTPYrKSgjEDPltbH7ToDwE-rvLaKPWaOgm4hXTtwXwrl1R8UDi6Uw/w400-h265/image1_5.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mama and me in 1943 (or 1944)</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>This cheeky little girl was me, long ago. I didn't know what the world would hold for me, but I knew I was loved and cherished by my parents. Daddy must have taken the picture, and since I was still in diapers, I figure it must have been my first or second year. Mama had created the outfit, probably even knit that adorable beret. And of course Daddy had to get his car in the picture, too. Is it a Packard? I have no idea, but it sure needed a bath.</div><div><br /></div><div>I went rummaging around in my pictures, looking for some inspiration for today's post, and it occurred to me that I have always been an active person, looking for adventure. Although I grew up as an Air Force brat (as we were called by those who stayed put in their lives, while we moved all the time), I never doubted that my parents loved me and would provide me with everything I needed. When you're born in such an environment, there is no uncertainty clouding your days. When I think of those children born in a war zone today, filled with uncertainty in every respect, I feel bad for them. What a different world. If I were Queen of the World, it wouldn't be like that for anyone.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I'm not and now that I'm on the other end of life, I am remembering some of the wonderful moments of exhilaration and discovery that I've experienced. When I lived in Boulder, Colorado, before I got pulled into the skydiving world, I spent plenty of time in the Colorado mountains, hiking many of the fourteeners with friends. "Fourteeners" is the epithet used for the numerous Colorado peaks that are at least 14,000 feet high. There are, I believe, 52 of them. I've climbed exactly half: 26. Some I have climbed more than once, like Longs Peak, which has a direct route (the <b><a href="https://www.alanarnette.com/co14ers/longspeakkeyhole.php">Keyhole Route</a></b>) that doesn't require technical skill, and a climber's route on the East Face where you need ropes and at least one other person. I ran into a group of climbers in Boulder who were willing to train me to use crampons and ropes, and we did climb what is called <b><a href="https://stuckintherockies.com/2008/10/longs-peak-kieners-route/">Kiener's Route</a></b> once many years ago. I found those two links and in reading the descriptions of the routes, I am simply amazed at what we accomplished.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzLrIF8CAByZKLuTR5d4GSAlPdEtXPyg3uP-bXchJJJXw98LZ56xe8BwgupDAWFdvsp6gdvmKJCT2sSc_StErl7NiJgAz71krj_X-4GYh6VNgZv3PN52D-e8bI1uVGdw01m1DW2iDlCQualo6ft6i5MXZeb58OnmHguylcB6I55DqxhUzgTLjsfdyF6U/s985/longs.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="689" data-original-width="985" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzLrIF8CAByZKLuTR5d4GSAlPdEtXPyg3uP-bXchJJJXw98LZ56xe8BwgupDAWFdvsp6gdvmKJCT2sSc_StErl7NiJgAz71krj_X-4GYh6VNgZv3PN52D-e8bI1uVGdw01m1DW2iDlCQualo6ft6i5MXZeb58OnmHguylcB6I55DqxhUzgTLjsfdyF6U/w400-h280/longs.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On top of Long's Peak</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Of course, I was young then, and in looking at that picture of me I don't remember having long hair but I did, although I remember very well that yellow and blue hat. The Keyhole Route is 15 miles, and I remember starting before dawn to be able to get up and back before the usual thunderstorms formed. I remember the Boulder Field that seemed endless, and the scary part where you hug a sheer cliff with a long drop down on the other side. But I did it, and I remember feeling really exhilarated when we reached the summit. It's almost 5,000 feet of elevation gain and loss.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the other route, the technical one (Kieners Route), we roped up often as we ascended. I well remember looking at what is called "Broadway," a long stretch below the Diamond shape of the wall, where of course we were roped. You might get a bit of the heeby-jeebies when you look at the picture of it because of all that exposure.<br /></div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbHNrkYsINWY-v_US7mBKGwj8x1n2Bw2CugFQLBgjojPchC2Ac3K50zUauBPEaxt-9Aaa04tMs8xIzv5zRErqdjAXyE8A8jXD4WcD45DyjwU6g-_mRVcdRZ1RerTUN60V7XOtcHSf1QRATXKKew-UtWEnwTixaULxLAJcBy1_uygO8CUC3PtimTYT7LkU/s600/kieners.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbHNrkYsINWY-v_US7mBKGwj8x1n2Bw2CugFQLBgjojPchC2Ac3K50zUauBPEaxt-9Aaa04tMs8xIzv5zRErqdjAXyE8A8jXD4WcD45DyjwU6g-_mRVcdRZ1RerTUN60V7XOtcHSf1QRATXKKew-UtWEnwTixaULxLAJcBy1_uygO8CUC3PtimTYT7LkU/w300-h400/kieners.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbers on Kieners Route, from internet</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>These days, thinking of completing such a long and arduous climb under those conditions simply amazes me, but reminds me that I have indeed gotten much more circumspect in what I attempt these days. More than 70 people have died on those Longs Peak routes, the last one in 2022 when the weather turned bad and the guy got lost. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am not done with adventures, but I have had more than my share already. Now that I am getting towards the last years, or months, or days (who knows?), I realize that many of my adventures have never really left me. They are still there to be remembered, shared and enjoyed. And if I am lucky enough to experience in retrospect once again the fearful moments, I'll consider that to be a bonus! A frisson of fear courses through me now and then, but these days it's for more mundane reasons, like stumbling on an uneven spot on the sidewalk. </div><div><div><blockquote><i>Fear keeps us focused on the past or worried about the future. If we can acknowledge our fear, we can realize that right now we are okay. Right now, today, we are still alive, and our bodies are working marvelously. Our eyes can still see the beautiful sky. Our ears can still hear the voices of our loved ones.</i> —Thich Nhat Hanh</blockquote></div></div><div>Some of us seek out those fearful moments, because they remind us of just that: we are still alive, and we can see and hear just like always. Well, maybe some of us need some help in that regard, like needing eyeglasses and hearing aids. But still, we can continue to live each day with an adventurous spirit. It is so much more fun to approach each day that way, so much better than to be fearful of everything around us. Even if we are not in the best shape of our lives, we are still able to have lots of adventures, different from our youthful days perhaps, but still adventures.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why, just thinking about this post has been an adventure for me. When I went back and refreshed my memory of those strenuous hikes of yesteryear, I experienced the same sense of accomplishment that I felt decades ago. I look forward to what the day ahead will bring, and I look forward to spending some time with family and friends, reading all your blogs and learning what's going on in your lives today. I am hoping also that perhaps you will look at your life with a sense of adventure as you move through the moments, realizing once again how incredibly lucky we are to have another day to enjoy being alive. </div><div><br /></div><div>Soon I will climb out of bed and begin the rest of my day. My dear partner, as usual, still sleeps quietly next to me as I type, and now that we are approaching springtime, the light in the morning sky greets me, instead of the darkness of winter. The magic of writing this Sunday morning post has once again catapulted me from drowsy dreams to looking forward to what the day will bring. And of course, my dear friends, I hope it will bring you whatever adventures you desire. Until we meet again, I wish you all good things. Be well.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-64003297818948095042024-02-11T06:12:00.000-08:002024-02-11T06:12:39.498-08:00Mixed emotions today<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfMGjkkXjTJZF6D3KuZx44tlhAh6WVw4HqXqObDY6tAUCBVjSWeD2-A5p4BuqEFxr_to_8WI2MnMyh-B2CpBjk8wU0Ye3GMLRz2Hkhgaow3wkimOsjl0PPOVhw_uJf-uvVEFga3YENV2KaHvu9velRlmS5w3H2X9B3tTgMynkZPEb5dMveFDPvHNbV4s/s1280/djanChina%20012.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1021" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfMGjkkXjTJZF6D3KuZx44tlhAh6WVw4HqXqObDY6tAUCBVjSWeD2-A5p4BuqEFxr_to_8WI2MnMyh-B2CpBjk8wU0Ye3GMLRz2Hkhgaow3wkimOsjl0PPOVhw_uJf-uvVEFga3YENV2KaHvu9velRlmS5w3H2X9B3tTgMynkZPEb5dMveFDPvHNbV4s/w319-h400/djanChina%20012.jpeg" width="319" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Great Wall of China 2003</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>So much time has passed in life since this picture was taken, both SG and I in China visiting the Great Wall. I was in attendance at a conference that my boss Mickey had arranged, and we were taken by our Chinese hosts to see the sights. Of course this was included, and we were so lucky to see it and have a chance to walk along part of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was looking for a picture among the thousands I've amassed, one that would be relevant to our history, as well as part of our present-day life. We are fast coming up on our thirtieth wedding anniversary, one that felt impossible when we first met, both of us in our fifties. Who would have been able to predict that here in 2024 we would be happily growing old together? Certainly not the two of us. But here we are, octogenarians with a rich life of adventure and travel behind us, and settled into our daily lives with joy in the present and hopes for many more years ahead. But who knows what the future will bring?</div><div><br /></div><div>I have been following the news, as much as I can stomach anyway, because it has a tendency to make me sad or angry, and there's not much I can do to change things. But I can express myself in this blog, say what's on my mind, and know that many of us are in the same situation. What is happening in Israel and Gaza keeps me awake at night. What is happening in the political arena here in the US also makes me fearful for the future. But again, there is little I can do other than give a few dollars to those organizations I feel can make a difference. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am just ten days younger than Joe Biden. When he was first running for President four years ago, I felt he was too old. After all, I couldn't fathom myself having the energy to do that incredibly difficult job. And if there was anyone else who might run, I would definitely consider supporting a viable candidate. But nobody has come forth yet, and I will vote for Biden and Harris again, if I have the chance. And he has done a really good job during his first term, in my opinion. But to have another five years in the cauldron that is American politics today? It is worrisome. However...</div><div><blockquote><i>A human being would certainly not grow to be seventy or eighty years old if this longevity had no meaning for the species. The afternoon of human life must also have a significance of its own and cannot be merely a pitiful appendage to life's morning. </i>—Carl Jung</blockquote><p> The entire conversation about age and ability is everywhere right now. And of course, as one who is already well into old age, it sure looks like "ageism" to me. That because of some verbal slips by Biden and Trump, they are not cognitively fit for the difficult job of the presidency. And they may be right. We will only know after the fact, but I find it very troubling that this is the metric that many are using to make their decision about who to vote for. Both of them are old! But one of them has made tremendous positive strides forward for the country, while the other has been just plain wacko. How can so many people feel he is not a threat to democracy but a good idea? It boggles my mind. So I'll get off this contentious subject and turn to more positive thoughts. </p><p>I feel very fortunate to have such a great place to live, and having moved to the Pacific Northwest when I retired in 2008 has been one of the best moves I've ever made. I am so glad to be here, and even if it is a little rainy, the result is plenty of vegetation, flowers, and trees that flourish everywhere. We even have lots of domestic wildlife, such as birds, deer, and squirrels that also enjoy the mild weather. It's true that we get the occasional snowstorm during the winters, and the occasional windstorm as well, but there is no place in the world that has better weather for someone like me. And I have a plethora of rain gear for the wet days, like today.</p><p>Today is the first day of the Chinese New Year, and we have entered the Year of the Wood Dragon, whatever that means. From what I can surmise, for those born in the Year of the Horse, like me, it portends a chance to create our own stories this year and carve our own path. Our natural charismatic and optimistic nature will benefit us in this endeavor, according to astrologers. That sounds pretty good to me. I hope we will all have a good year ahead.</p><p>It's also Super Bowl Sunday, the annual celebration of the two football leagues having it out with each other. I am rooting for one of the teams, but I really don't care all that much about the game. I don't usually watch it because I get all wound up in it and it's not good for my ability to stay neutral. I just hope nobody gets hurt and that everyone enjoys themselves. How anybody can afford to actually be there in person astounds me. I think the cheapest tickets cost more than most people can afford. But then again, if you've got the money, it's yours to decide how to spend it, right? Many years ago, I would watch the game and felt very invested in it, but now I am wiser and have better things to do with my time.</p><p>Today after I have breakfast with John, I'll call my friend Lily and we'll make plans to spend some time together. We were going to go for a nice walk, but she's not keen to walk in the rain, so maybe we'll go to a movie, or who knows? The main thing is to be together. She is a dear friend whom I don't see often enough. </p><p>And friendships and loving relationships are central to having a good life. It's worth spending some of my time just hanging out with good friends, as well as my partner, who of course still sleeps next to me this morning. I laughed at one blogger who wonders how he deals with the incessant tapping of the keys as I write, so I asked him once again how he feels about it. He says he not only doesn't mind, but he finds it soothing, unless he's just trying to make me feel okay about it.</p><p>Well, that wraps up this Sunday morning post. I am filled with all sort of emotions, some good and some not so good, but I am also happy to be alive and in good health, for an old bird like me, anyway. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.</p><p><br /></p></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-24146211438219326082024-02-04T06:05:00.000-08:002024-02-04T06:07:21.801-08:00Halfway to spring<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UMiViyn2zgL7f_k3PQfHYV7BA-Ol92C6u9xMYn6-7n_9RKqSt_oPIhBnUzniphCzvpHbLqpn13G7yQ_ZvkTMEP2WOsLe4exy3SQDeTHIMdMge2u3hTeBUEgKZUiyNM9zexA3QkO2DGI3nUHV0KI0EaxnLrRtRWllXEjzeryMNi4ozp9-PJP8Fz6XNO4/s1280/IMG_7586.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UMiViyn2zgL7f_k3PQfHYV7BA-Ol92C6u9xMYn6-7n_9RKqSt_oPIhBnUzniphCzvpHbLqpn13G7yQ_ZvkTMEP2WOsLe4exy3SQDeTHIMdMge2u3hTeBUEgKZUiyNM9zexA3QkO2DGI3nUHV0KI0EaxnLrRtRWllXEjzeryMNi4ozp9-PJP8Fz6XNO4/w400-h300/IMG_7586.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Padden on a winter's day</td></tr></tbody></table><br />We here in the US have finally visited the rodent who predicts the weather, Punxsutawney Phil, on February 2, to see if he will be predicting that we'll have an early spring or not. It's the day when we have reached the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Apparently he doesn't have a very good track record, since he's only been right 39% of the time. Maybe we should be considering that, since he's predicts an early spring this year, it will be late.<p></p><p>Whatever. It's fun to speculate and spend some time with such antics, but one thing I know for sure: the days are getting longer, there's a bit of light in the sky when I walk to the bus in the early mornings, and that soon I'll be seeing sprouts of emerging daffodils and primroses beginning to show the change of the season. It's been a confusing winter so far, with extreme cold and snow, followed by extreme warmth and rain. At one point last week, we had a warm front come through where the day's heat just kept on rising, long after sunset. We reached a record of 68°F (20°C) at 7:00pm on the 29th! And I saw on TV that Seattle had three nights of record-breaking high low temperatures during that same period. Very strange weather indeed, and it seems like just a few days ago we were buried in more than a foot of snow and extreme cold. Now we're almost back to a normal weather pattern, but there's no question that things are definitely not following the usual norms.</p><p>I really didn't know what I wanted to write about today, so I went over to my favorite quote library, brainyquote.com, and I got interested in reading about Helen Keller once I found this quote by her:</p><p></p><blockquote><i>Once I knew only darkness and stillness... my life was without past or future... but a little word from the fingers of another fell into my hand that clutched at emptiness, and my heart leaped to the rapture of living.</i> —Helen Keller</blockquote><p> Many years ago I saw <b><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0056241/">The Miracle Worker</a></b> (1962) movie and enjoyed it very much. I actually might have seen it a time or two later, but I don't remember much from it except Anne Bancroft and Patty Duke in two memorable performances. What I didn't relate to at the time was what it must have been like to be both deaf and blind and unable to understand the world around me. Not only did Helen overcome her handicaps, with help from her teacher and others, she ended up attending Radcliffe College and graduating cum laude in 1904. She wrote 14 books and her <b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Story-My-Life-Original-Unabridged-ebook/dp/B0C443YH2R/ref=sr_1_3?crid=7AQFE8J3VLY5&keywords=helen+keller+biography&qid=1707051969&sprefix=helen+keller%2Caps%2C149&sr=8-3">biography</a></b> is still in print.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_dzJf4aCGPj8Q_R1IwTjS4Wa04X-9LEP1NxDzsSkNZjBD7UWYvVDERvnJwpGIZMhcO093iM0XgEc2TyaS7baZqDzyqv1lOza4hwKIjO1J8juC0ZXafoz4y8OAOU0W6yGPh9PWqwrbjxkXkx-t6Ww4i9eH1V4fsCfJ4D7WVE7JTSwM_jJTJMBo_inZgXE/s652/Screenshot%202024-02-04%20at%205.20.42%E2%80%AFAM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="652" data-original-width="418" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_dzJf4aCGPj8Q_R1IwTjS4Wa04X-9LEP1NxDzsSkNZjBD7UWYvVDERvnJwpGIZMhcO093iM0XgEc2TyaS7baZqDzyqv1lOza4hwKIjO1J8juC0ZXafoz4y8OAOU0W6yGPh9PWqwrbjxkXkx-t6Ww4i9eH1V4fsCfJ4D7WVE7JTSwM_jJTJMBo_inZgXE/w256-h400/Screenshot%202024-02-04%20at%205.20.42%E2%80%AFAM.png" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helen on her 80th birthday</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It's almost impossible for me to imagine how Helen became so proficient in everything she attempted. To only know the world around you by the tapping of someone's fingers into your palm, and having that be enough to open the doors of perception so wide that you could become a world-renowned author. She traveled to dozens of countries and gave interviews with many world leaders. She was acquainted with many famous people, including Albert Einstein, John F. Kennedy, Eleanor Roosevelt, and so many more. She helped to create the American Foundation for the Blind, which offers an archive of her works, which is available <b><a href="https://www.afb.org/HelenKellerArchive?_gl=1*l32uj8*_gcl_au*MTEyNzg4NjQ0My4xNzA3MDAxNzQ4&_ga=2.73945558.597002959.1707001748-1597246875.1707001748">here</a></b>. <p></p><p>And I was pleased to learn that she lived a good long life, dying at the age of 87, a few days short of her 88th birthday. Until she suffered a stroke in her 80th year, she continued to be active and engaged in many pursuits. Afterwards, she lived a quiet life and probably spent her time reading, but I don't know for sure. She died in 1968.</p><p></p><blockquote><i>To each one of us is given in some degree the power to create and distribute happiness, and that is about the best thing any one of us can do. There is no surer way to keep the fire of happiness burning in our own hearts than by sharing its brightness with others. </i>—Helen Keller, 1924 speech</blockquote><p>When I think about all the wonderful people who are alive today, carrying on the work that Helen started, to reach those who were not given the abilities we take for granted, I am truly humbled. But she is right: we are all given to "some degree the power to create and distribute happiness," which is what I attempt to create every Sunday morning with these posts. Helen came alive for me today and has reached through the mists of time to inspire me, a fellow traveler. And I will purchase a copy of her biography to read on my Kindle.</p><p>Are there people who inspire you to become a better version of who you already are? I know that now that I am old, I am impressed with others my own age who have found ways to do that. We are at a crossroads in our lives today, with so many of us becoming frail and aged, just when we are getting ready for more upheaval and strife all around the world. But I refuse to give up my pursuit of happiness and will try to keep Helen's words uppermost in my thoughts: that there "is no surer way to keep the fire of happiness burning in our own hearts than by sharing its brightness with others."</p><p>As I sit here with my laptop, typing these words into a device that can carry them to the farthest reaches of the globe, it's important for me to realize the gifts that I already have, and take advantage of them in the moment. My dear partner still sleeps quietly next to me, and I know that John will be coming to take me to breakfast soon. It is quiet and serene in my world, as I prepare to wind this post up and send it out into the world. For you, my dear virtual family, I am hoping that you will find some way to share the brightness of happiness with others. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things. Be well, dear friends.</p><p><br /></p><p></p><p></p>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-62163128192395669942024-01-28T05:52:00.000-08:002024-01-28T05:54:25.110-08:00Rain and more rain<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw_1k3sdRkwnADCidkCiWm_IORCHPe7smL_iZygjm2DyoC5DGGy5IF4Sm_dg165aGdCPGuWu-HmLM15Dod2RZAE2fWDMakIe2khp6dvqgHdtjGvUkkDr6OAcJzLMduKy2aktClWB2vQVe1qxXeXQbnM_luhMo_-78vTwSElChkUlVGMPCilwRa_0gaHBk/s1280/IMG_8802.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw_1k3sdRkwnADCidkCiWm_IORCHPe7smL_iZygjm2DyoC5DGGy5IF4Sm_dg165aGdCPGuWu-HmLM15Dod2RZAE2fWDMakIe2khp6dvqgHdtjGvUkkDr6OAcJzLMduKy2aktClWB2vQVe1qxXeXQbnM_luhMo_-78vTwSElChkUlVGMPCilwRa_0gaHBk/w400-h300/IMG_8802.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steve, me, Don</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>I guess I really am sort of short, as I look at this selfie of the three of us. I am pretty wet in the picture (maybe I shrunk!), although I'm wearing a usually quite capable rain slicker. The rain started out as a light sprinkle but then picked up to remain a drizzle or a light rain for the entire five miles we walked at Squalicum Harbor. </div><div><br /></div><div>But I am back to my old workout routine, getting five miles with the Happy Wanderers on Tuesday, around seven miles with lots of elevation on Thursday, and five miles on Saturday with my two regular partners. And on none of these excursions did I have to deal with snow! Warm temperatures and rain have taken care of all of it. Now it's back to normal puddles as we face a trio of atmospheric rivers coming up from the coastal waters of warm Hawaii. You might wonder what an atmospheric river is. Well, since you asked:</div><div><blockquote><i>Atmospheric rivers bring moderate to heavy precipitation into the region, sometimes for days on end. This first atmospheric river is anticipated to bring between 0.5 inches to 1.5 inches to the lowlands through Saturday afternoon, with a potential for 2 to 4 inches of rain in the mountains and up to 2 inches in coastal areas. The system is also expected to usher in milder temperatures, raising snow levels between 7,000 and 8,000 feet, leading to some snowmelt. Temperatures may be as much as 10 degrees higher than normal by Sunday. </i>(KING5 Hydrological Outlook)</blockquote><p>That was issued on Friday, and sure enough, we got more than an inch of rain yesterday (Saturday). I even discovered that my waterproof rain shoes are also no longer keeping all the moisture from reaching my feet. However, it was so warm that I never had a problem staying comfortable. I wonder if there is some way to get the Gore-Tex lining back to its original state, or whether it's time to just bite the bullet and buy another pair of what have been my favorite shoes for the past year. They weren't terribly expensive, and they were comfy from the first step I took. For those who might be interested, they are Hoka's Clifton 9 GTX brand. And for months they have kept my feet dry as well. </p><p>On Thursday, I took a spill on a wet log and scraped my right forearm quite severely. Even though it didn't tear the coat material, it certainly took a good bit of skin off my arm. I knew that I had broken the skin in a couple places, but it wasn't until we stopped for lunch that I inspected the damage.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFb1w-B_48u2hA8kpEkJNUKq6RSCZRxuPxE2cCugHBWtYQ3nBVztSeC4-7XdUQ-CO8E4xKVsFEU16yQVtdSKd2vnIFtx18KT8dX1XrR-rqjR7OMrwlIYFQWgPnK_4zCawlAzPxnxQVs7ZKzkeafbEsf3PbqGD8Y-heLLLEZTVV7hOuU7HJRtHOVkyFGI/s1280/IMG_8798.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFb1w-B_48u2hA8kpEkJNUKq6RSCZRxuPxE2cCugHBWtYQ3nBVztSeC4-7XdUQ-CO8E4xKVsFEU16yQVtdSKd2vnIFtx18KT8dX1XrR-rqjR7OMrwlIYFQWgPnK_4zCawlAzPxnxQVs7ZKzkeafbEsf3PbqGD8Y-heLLLEZTVV7hOuU7HJRtHOVkyFGI/w400-h300/IMG_8798.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three pretty good scrapes</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Two of those scraped spots show broken skin, so my trusty friends pulled out some antibiotic cream and a couple of good-sized bandages, and then I was good to go. It actually stung awhile after treatment, but then there was no longer any discomfort at all. This picture was taken Friday morning after a good sleep and after a shower, before re-bandaging the affected areas. It makes me happy to see how well it is healing up. I got a massage later on Friday, and I learned that it wasn't only the arm that took some of the beating, but my entire area from shoulder to waist was sensitive. Otherwise, the massage was just what the doctor ordered. She of course skipped my forearm.</p><p>It has occurred to me that it might be because I have "old-lady skin" that it tore like that. I notice that when one's skin gets old and rather fragile, it doesn't take much for it to be injured in such a manner. It was a glancing blow, so I was not in danger of breaking any bones. Fortunately I do have a strong constitution, but I don't want to jinx myself by saying I am indestructible or anything like that, because it's not true. I have taken many a spill on hikes before, but the last bones I broke were because of a bad landing under my parachute, almost two decades ago.</p><p>As I rouse myself to begin another Sunday here in the Pacific Northwest, I just checked the weather and we are expecting another bout of rain, but nothing like we received yesterday. By tonight the second atmospheric river should bring more warm rain, so I'll check my wardrobe of rain gear and figure out what might work better to keep me dry. I feel so much better when I can get out and about, so I won't let a little rain stop me. Or puddles! </p><p>Last night I dreamed about my grandmother, who has been gone for quite awhile, but she was there, being her normal self in my dream, and it sometimes makes me wonder just whether our loved ones hang around in the corridors of our minds forever, or if it's just an illusion. Then I remember that it's ALL an illusion, that what we think of as reality is made up in our minds and has no intrinsic meaning. At least that is what I believe right now. But it sure was somehow reassuring to visit my granny in seemingly concrete form last night.</p><p></p><blockquote><i>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.</i> —Lao Tzu</blockquote><p> Friendship and loved ones are the staples of my existence. Without my circle of friends and my dear family, I would be quite bereft and lonely as well. But I am very fortunate not to have to try to exist without them, but I realize that it's important to value and cherish those who give me such love. It starts with my partner, who lies asleep beside me right now, who is journeying with me through the travails and joys of life. I am quite aware that as octogenarians, we will not always be as lucky as we are in this moment of time, so I need to bring my gratitude into the present moment and acknowledge it. </p><p>There are only a few things I need to remember in order to find serenity, but probably the most important one is that we are all on this little lifeboat together, trying hard to find a way to peace and happiness. It sure helps me to visit my blogging family and see how each one is doing, and your efforts at dealing with the vicissitudes of your own lives. I like that quote from Lao Tzu, reminding me to "let reality be reality." I'm just glad that reality also includes visits from long-departed loved ones.</p><p>John's "chariot" will be coming to get me so we can head to Fairhaven for our Sunday breakfast in just a little over an hour from now. Before then, I will have done my <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Five_Tibetan_Rites">Tibetan rites</a></b> (five daily exercises I've been doing for well more than a decade now), spent a few minutes following my breath in meditation, and take all my morning vitamins. Then I'll head out to the front porch, enjoying the mild weather, and watch for his arrival. We'll have a nice breakfast together in the only place open so early, and then come back home to my sweet partner and look forward to the day ahead.</p><p>And with that, my Sunday morning post is finished. I have already inserted my "ears" and find that life is qualitatively better when I can hear. Thanks, hearing aids! I wish there was a way to slip on my eyeglasses and see the way I used to before AMD (age-related macular degeneration), but it's good enough. And of course, I'll read today's posts that you will have written, and enjoy visiting my virtual family. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.</p><p></p></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-52146179257873478812024-01-21T05:31:00.000-08:002024-01-21T05:31:57.120-08:00Snowpocalypse!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUMX26wWrs2g6pQTJuabofRevulEaOktgIzN99mjN6T_ahHK59i6qEtfWmt5jhD0TJ_vva05o_5Zot7xhhEb2blsB1AwKcluQxtI5S_ZVXpbLVd0lymkOzwD5fXNWKrkOAWA1-owVYLEe6y9zqogOmqZu2o4la0e091njUqaFxn4dibOs_QLFe3DDS40/s1280/IMG_8772.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUMX26wWrs2g6pQTJuabofRevulEaOktgIzN99mjN6T_ahHK59i6qEtfWmt5jhD0TJ_vva05o_5Zot7xhhEb2blsB1AwKcluQxtI5S_ZVXpbLVd0lymkOzwD5fXNWKrkOAWA1-owVYLEe6y9zqogOmqZu2o4la0e091njUqaFxn4dibOs_QLFe3DDS40/w400-h300/IMG_8772.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our driveway four days later</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">On Wednesday of last week, we got a bit of snow. In fact, more snow for the date than we had ever before received here in Bellingham and surrounding towns. We don't do well driving in snow, since we rarely have any. But this was more than scary: after all that exceptionally cold weather, the ground was frozen, and eight or more inches of snow fell all during the day and into the night. By midday, the bus authority stopped all buses, with several stuck in snowdrifts. It's been more than thirty years since we lost bus service throughout town, but they really had no choice. Anybody who had come to town that morning could get a ride home through the WTA website, and apparently hundreds did just that. I had taken the bus to the coffee shop that morning, but I headed home before the buses stopped running. The next morning, Thursday, bus schedules were back to normal, with buses using chains.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">And on Friday, I didn't go to the coffee shop because, although it had warmed up above freezing, we had an event that anybody who drives knows to avoid: freezing rain. Friday morning my front porch steps had a half-inch of ice and driving anywhere was beyond my ability. Fortunately, it warmed up considerably by noon, and I was able to careen down the driveway to plowed and navigable streets. Unfortunately, I had to come back, and I couldn't use any downward momentum to help me, so I got stuck in the slush and ice and snow. At least I was almost home. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">After much soul searching and getting help from SG (and our neighbors), we were able to get my car into a relatively safe place, and I once again gave up on trying to get any exercise at all for a few days. At least I have a safe and warm place to hang out until I can drive on actual pavement once again. On Friday, the Senior Center opened up again after being closed for two days, two hours late, but still. I didn't try to get there. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;">Yesterday, Saturday, John came and picked me up in his big truck that has 4WD, to take me to the coffee shop. Obviously there would be no walk, however, since where would I go that was safe? That coffee sure tasted good, though. I miss my routine, but I will cope with this however I can. I'll survive, for awhile at least.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">[Sorry for font size, I can't seem to fix it.]</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I am not yet willing to give up on my exercise, just because of a little white slippery stuff on all the available surfaces. However, for the time being, I am staying away from any attempt at driving in that slush. I think just walking to the bus tomorrow morning will be exercise enough. I just need to be patient.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Life is not so easy sometimes, and especially when I allow myself to get pulled into all the drama and problems of the world. You'd think I have enough to worry about in my own life that I wouldn't want to take on the weight of the world, but I continue to forget that and fall into worry and sadness about where we are right now. I know I am not alone in this. But it really, truly doesn't help anything to get better to worry about it. So the right thing to do is to raise my eyes from the horizon and take a nice full body stretch, and start over.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I have plenty of ways to feel gratitude, and I need to put those front and center to keep myself from falling into the darkness. Remembering how many people around me are available to help, if I just ask, is an essential element in moving toward the light. It is really amazing how different things look when I change my mind about how to see the world around me. I have no reason to be unhappy: I have a roof over my head, warmth inside it, a dear partner who loves me and I love him, and enough monthly income to pay the bills, even if I will never be rich. Who needs that? With my trusty laptop connected to the wide world, I have infinite opportunities to explore.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">And I know without doubt that whatever I might be experiencing right now, it will pass. Everything does, and change is inevitable. When I think of all the various stages of life I have already passed through, why in the world would I think that this snowy and slippery landscape is all there is? It embarrasses me a little to think of how easy it is to forget all my wonderful and precious fellow beings who travel this path with me. Mary Oliver says it perfectly with this quote:</span></div><div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><blockquote><i>To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.</i> —Mary Oliver</blockquote></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">This is true no matter what life throws at us, or what life takes away from us. We just need to remember that we are not alone, we are surrounded by others who love us, who wish only the best for us, and for whom we wish only the best of life's bounty. </div></div><div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojl7SR785lhl3_nlCnyU9EYh5WMIjjVpRPpTdkxzBDCDJK4y7RKkMdVq5iM4Ed2Gf86gUQ3PBTpIAgwXeKkeTRtIZa7yNDulOWPOwffj8-2ajwJ6-4bK6myfMhrdpw6tTfPyU9hFqMGavlyzSuZGb4NdptNn3Ua1m1QikzDIJ-2jJi76XWTTkdvCBeWI/s1280/IMG_8773.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojl7SR785lhl3_nlCnyU9EYh5WMIjjVpRPpTdkxzBDCDJK4y7RKkMdVq5iM4Ed2Gf86gUQ3PBTpIAgwXeKkeTRtIZa7yNDulOWPOwffj8-2ajwJ6-4bK6myfMhrdpw6tTfPyU9hFqMGavlyzSuZGb4NdptNn3Ua1m1QikzDIJ-2jJi76XWTTkdvCBeWI/w400-h300/IMG_8773.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking it one day at a time</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I find myself once again apologizing to my readers for a post that is not uplifting but filled with angst. Unfortunately, it's all that I seem to be feeling these days, as I make my way back to wholeness. It seems that the theme of my life these days is learning how to let it go, let it go. </div><div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">And with that, I will wrap up this post and think about how to have a more uplifting and better post next Sunday. My love for you is undiminished, and I will give it another try next week. Until then, I wish only the best for you and hope that all good things come your way.</div><div style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-78774421709949970382024-01-14T06:25:00.000-08:002024-01-14T06:25:28.818-08:00The coldest part is behind us<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzLXTD3BSsN3ON9FciBaelW_N_ViSikRNaHHj8t3REuvj2dudlEIHNTJisZpnNElsWGCAS4iyIcZ-SOim7IOzzuVISr_x6COJwnzfQlIJnF7E5o51kb_GUlJCvOALrQpY5Pb2vr9SK8_4tIm8wTjvY4AbahlmlnVOXPoqbaQkeFsT3N9ietvDdej1dGU/s1280/IMG_8761.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzLXTD3BSsN3ON9FciBaelW_N_ViSikRNaHHj8t3REuvj2dudlEIHNTJisZpnNElsWGCAS4iyIcZ-SOim7IOzzuVISr_x6COJwnzfQlIJnF7E5o51kb_GUlJCvOALrQpY5Pb2vr9SK8_4tIm8wTjvY4AbahlmlnVOXPoqbaQkeFsT3N9ietvDdej1dGU/w400-h300/IMG_8761.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Western Washington campus yesterday</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>I know it doesn't look all that cold in the picture, since the sun was shining and the wind was minimal. But while on a walk with Steve, I saw that lovely rose and went over to check it out, only to find that it was frozen solid! It felt like a brick instead of a rose. We got down to 5°F (-15°C) on Thursday night, and the wind blew very hard all night. We didn't lose power again, thankfully. (We lost it for four hours early on Tuesday morning, but the cold air had not yet reached us.)</div><div><br /></div><div>By Friday, I was not willing to walk to the bus just to get some coffee in 5°F weather, and you know how unusual that is for me. Then John called me to see if I was going out, and I told him that I would go only if he would come by and pick me up. Which is just what he did, and we enjoyed coffee and a treat at the coffee shop, before he brought me back home, where I spent the entire day indoors, no desire to walk in that weather. The wind was less, but still there were occasional strong gusts.</div><div><br /></div><div>However, yesterday (Saturday), we made it through the night without losing power, and the wind had pretty much stopped. But it was still very cold, not enough to stop me two days in a row, however. I dressed as warmly as I could and went out to my car, hoping it would start. My first problem is that I couldn't get the key to unlock the driver's side door. Finally I was able to get inside the car by entering through the passenger side door, crawling over to the other side (not all that easy with a manual transmission to navigate) and opening the driver's side door that way. Whew! I turned the key and the car started right up. I allowed it to sit for awhile and warm up a little before heading to the coffee shop. The roads were dry and the sun was just coming up when I arrived without incident. Steve was already there, so I pulled out my iPad and got the Wordle (in three!) and drank my own welcome coffee. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was in no hurry to venture out in such cold temperatures, but we agreed that we'd walk to Western University campus and back, which turned out to be around six miles. By the time we got to the waterfront, it had warmed all the way up to 11°F, and we saw three young people on a dock, getting ready to take a jump into the water! We stayed long enough to watch one young lady strip to her bra and leggings and ease herself into the water. She kept her winter cap on, and swam around for a bit. She was still in the water when we left.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2B2FeknSPSPmFTiJSkqbpXwgO18rxT2wiNX1_D5jTePG7E0Hkgx-ZWzyDFB_bR5-oB9PMJkUjitaQu3BdKqS2Kv3AAkjPuQ2uWNasuhMhHqXLi-ImReKJ3grgcIZ-xEZT4BarCT-lx1fGeHip_VXb63q2QaM-Reb_SECowOt_yRjoUXkPUWmapHAR5k/s1280/IMG_8764.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2B2FeknSPSPmFTiJSkqbpXwgO18rxT2wiNX1_D5jTePG7E0Hkgx-ZWzyDFB_bR5-oB9PMJkUjitaQu3BdKqS2Kv3AAkjPuQ2uWNasuhMhHqXLi-ImReKJ3grgcIZ-xEZT4BarCT-lx1fGeHip_VXb63q2QaM-Reb_SECowOt_yRjoUXkPUWmapHAR5k/w400-h300/IMG_8764.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grace on ice</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>For those of you who don't know the story about Grace, she just showed up one day on that pile of metal shavings in Bellingham Bay many years ago. She then mysteriously disappeared from the rock, and the artist must have gone through the proper channels and then she appeared again. I've seen birds nesting on the rock and yesterday she was standing on icicles of salt water. I was able to capture this with the sun shining right on the statue. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's still cold, but this morning the temperature is in the low teens, not single digits, so we seem to be through the coldest and most difficult part of our cold snap. The rest of the country is not so lucky, though. In the Midwest today it will be horribly cold and windy. What do you do when you have no heat and you cannot go anywhere to escape it? I am so glad we are warm and safe here, but I worry about the others who are not so fortunate. If that might be you, or someone you love, please try to find a safe place and hang in there. It will get better, but it might be some time before that happens. It would be a good idea to stay out of the water, unless you are a young adventurer.</div><div><br /></div><div>In this period of cold and ice, we need to take some advice from the birds: stick together and huddle somewhere out of the wind. Life is full of challenges, but we usually don't have to deal with such life-threatening situations. Until this passes, we must stick together and help one another get through it. </div><div><blockquote>I<i>t's not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.</i>—Epictetus</blockquote><p>And here I sit, in the dark January morning, with my dear partner sleeping next to me, the light of my laptop screen lighting the shadows, and enjoying feeling warm and cozy as I write. I don't have much to say this morning, it seems, as I cast about for some words of wisdom before starting my day. Every Sunday morning at this time I am usually wrapping up my post, but today I haven't been able to mine any great thoughts from my recalcitrant brain. Well, there's always next week, right? I don't have anything to prove, but I do want to give you, my dear reader, something to take away from this moment. Therefore, I will let Confucius say it:</p><p></p><blockquote><i>By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.</i>—Confucius</blockquote><p>So, dear friends, until we meet again next week, I hope you are able to stay warm and safe, and huddle together with your loved ones. I wish you all good things and lots of virtual (or actual) hugs and kisses. Be well.</p><p><br /></p><p></p></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-26547289098797262502024-01-07T06:04:00.000-08:002024-01-07T06:11:04.215-08:00First Sunday of the new year<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfQsI61dA1QvJUOg68aZG2-RQCKttyV64vxxEkNCWiY8U_CnNzvi40Gcru47-ubMi6Z6O22UVgR-egN9eiMX_4xIFxO54uGPjlo8R955RLVhxmfU9nW82ZVZgtrN01rJsEIW3OTSNgLkj-W6ZaxvPCs3fq77MgCEet5ANy7g3EhIc5EhSZ_OL_AzBBY0/s1280/IMG_8753.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfQsI61dA1QvJUOg68aZG2-RQCKttyV64vxxEkNCWiY8U_CnNzvi40Gcru47-ubMi6Z6O22UVgR-egN9eiMX_4xIFxO54uGPjlo8R955RLVhxmfU9nW82ZVZgtrN01rJsEIW3OTSNgLkj-W6ZaxvPCs3fq77MgCEet5ANy7g3EhIc5EhSZ_OL_AzBBY0/w400-h300/IMG_8753.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Safe Return" statue at Zuanich Point Park</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> My first Saturday walk of the new year was to the harbor, and I ended up going by myself. My two regular guys were otherwise occupied, and John didn't even show up for coffee. Don showed up with his wife Jane, and when he learned that Steve wasn't coming, he offered to change his plans in order to join me for the walk. I declined and really delighted in my solo walk. I was forced to find my own way to 5+ miles on a fine January day. It wasn't hard, and I did enjoy myself as the skies cleared and it warmed all the way up to 40°F. <p></p><p>I have always admired that statue, and I learned it was first installed on Memorial Day 1999 at Zuanich Point Park to commemorate local fishermen who had died or been lost at sea.</p><p></p><blockquote><p><i>The 16-foot statue is topped by a bronze fisherman casting a line, and the names are carved below on the 19-ton block of red granite. In total, it weighs 38,000 pounds and includes relief panels depicting various fishing industry scenes. </i><b>(<a href="https://www.cascadiadaily.com/news/2023/dec/04/whats-the-deal-with-the-safe-return-statue-at-zuanich-point-park/">Cascadia Daily News)</a></b></p></blockquote><p> As I walked, I saw lots of people out with their dogs, or couples on brisk walks together, as well as the occasional solo walker like myself. It was a lovely day to be out in the fresh, rather brisk, air. We've got some cold weather coming soon, within a day or two, but you would never have known, if you didn't look at the weather forecasts. Tonight we might have some snow flurries, the first of the season. Or not.</p><p>Okay, now onto the main subject I intend to write about today. You have heard it before, and you'll probably hear it again before these posts end: growing older and wondering how and when I will finally come to my own personal end. Everything changes, everything grows older and eventually... stops. Even our solar system and our sun will grow old and die. Contrast that with our teeny-tiny little instances of existence and one realizes that it's important to cherish every moment. Here, in the current moment, I am alive and taking stock of what I learn as I read new books and watch educational programs and even as I watch the news of the day.</p><p>For the moment, I have a functioning brain and nervous system, I am able to enjoy however much food I desire, and every night I get between six and nine hours of restful sleep. I exercise (some might say to excess) and have a rich and varied social life, with good friends and a partner with whom I share my days. What's not to like?</p><p>And yet. As I move through the days, one is not very different from the one before, or the one to come tomorrow. But time appears to be still flowing on by, and we change from day to day in imperceptible ways. It's always a good idea to step back now and then and look around. I found this collage I put together more than a decade ago, and I was amazed at how much I have changed over the years.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7oOjhPHJj8kZCg9M_Wh0yj0S73ns9FMt980LLxBYBP52YCScQJvc_TA_QE0iUEqe9btYYzYj82UTLN83osnHwsyy4yXc45FM7zj7C4xmeO42q7dkkUldaNC1cQChU8de3RgH4BMqiJ3HRa6J6MITFS1VgQlRRs8zCu0QrhyKYBxpDVzfjfbOf26ksdA/s1600/changes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7oOjhPHJj8kZCg9M_Wh0yj0S73ns9FMt980LLxBYBP52YCScQJvc_TA_QE0iUEqe9btYYzYj82UTLN83osnHwsyy4yXc45FM7zj7C4xmeO42q7dkkUldaNC1cQChU8de3RgH4BMqiJ3HRa6J6MITFS1VgQlRRs8zCu0QrhyKYBxpDVzfjfbOf26ksdA/w400-h266/changes.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long ago and far away</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Now I am an octogenarian, a state that none of those previous iterations of myself would have recognized. I could probably update that collage with some more recent photos, but I no longer have the software that helped me put it together. Plus I am really not all that interested in looking too closely at the current version of me.</p><p></p><blockquote><i>Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf. </i>—Rabindranath Tagore</blockquote><p></p><p>If I were to die today, nobody would think it was a premature death. I've lived longer than both of my parents, and I never really expected to be so old one day, but here I am. And happy to still be active and able to do stuff that gives me pleasure, like a daily walk and a weekly hike, hanging out with my fellow octogenarian, and being an active participant at our local Senior Center. There was a time, long ago now, that I wouldn't have been happy to be surrounded by old people. Now I am one of them, and very glad to still be active and engaged in life.</p><p>That final act of our lives, that one where we are finally getting ready to move on to the next phase of existence, if there is one, is getting closer every day. I am curious as to how it might come about: illness (either sudden or chronic), accident (either sudden like a car wreck, or maybe something that makes me incapacitated but still around for awhile), or maybe even dementia, old age, or by my own hand. I can't think of any others, although it might be because I don't spend all that much time thinking about it. I do notice that other people around my age are dying and nobody remarks much about it, like it's a normal occurrence. That is probably one reason I'm thinking about it more often these days. Whatever. It's part of the human experience, nothing to be alarmed about. People have been being born, growing old, and dying ever since we got here. We didn't ask to be here, but here we are anyway.</p><p>There are different kinds of people, and I've noticed that optimism comes naturally to me, while others never seem to be happy and always find fault with life and other people. You know who I mean: pessimists. It takes all kinds, but I am sure glad to be someone who sees goodness all around me. Sometimes it takes a real effort to keep being optimistic if I allow myself to be sucked into darkness. But it's a choice I get to make, and I choose the light, and compassion, and happiness wherever I can find it.</p><p>Remember when we first entered into the new millennium, back in 2000? I worried about what would happen when Y2K finally came about, and whether I'd even make it through the next decade. Well, here we are now and a quarter-century has passed! (Almost, anyway. One more year.) During that time, I retired from my job of three decades, we moved to the Pacific Northwest, and I started the next phase of my life. I don't think I could have chosen a more perfect place to live, where we have moderate temperatures most of the time (not too hot, not too cold) and plenty of places to explore, with good friends I've made through the Senior Center. Oh, I almost forgot that we have plenty of rain, meaning I've learned all about rain gear and ways to stay mostly dry while out and about. Every day is an adventure, and I intend to keep on like this for as long as I can. Why not? Why not enjoy myself? Why not look for the silver lining behind that dark cloud?</p><p>I never even fathomed how life would change, how the internet would bring me a brand-new family of like-minded people whose lives I follow with interest. That would be YOU, dear friends. I follow several dozen different blogs, most of whom don't post all that often (thank goodness), but others who post daily and whose family members are also dear to me. Some of you have chronic illnesses, and I spend some time every morning after my meditation thinking about you and surrounding you with healing light and love. Some of it spills out and over me, too. </p><p>Well, that about does it this morning. I will soon get up and do my daily exercises and meditation, and then John will pick me up and we'll head to Fairhaven for our Sunday breakfast. When I come home, I'll spend some time with SG, and then I'll read your blogs and find out what's going on in your lives, too. I might stream a movie to watch later today, but maybe not. I'm in the middle of a good book on my Kindle as well. So, life is good, and I wish that whatever you choose to do with your one precious life, it will bring you joy and happiness. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things.</p><p><br /></p>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-51822699845058189712023-12-31T06:16:00.000-08:002023-12-31T06:16:05.799-08:00Tough year behind us<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXZJP_cBgiMP4IBZTfDgqjCRf_SHUQLwviY5XK251r_gQ5TyZyrdPKbc3yzayy09jffGp7eKfoaveIA2uYoG2wYgWb25dPGOeSmhCpnixcuMtF0pno9uxp-mKSFhbVmS2ynNx-M_D6Cts5TgMszplpi5fEqhcceWnzD1-TKg7A5d8LUhUqZkVUAG0OFI/s1280/IMG_8731.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXZJP_cBgiMP4IBZTfDgqjCRf_SHUQLwviY5XK251r_gQ5TyZyrdPKbc3yzayy09jffGp7eKfoaveIA2uYoG2wYgWb25dPGOeSmhCpnixcuMtF0pno9uxp-mKSFhbVmS2ynNx-M_D6Cts5TgMszplpi5fEqhcceWnzD1-TKg7A5d8LUhUqZkVUAG0OFI/w400-h300/IMG_8731.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fairhaven terminal building</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday morning my friends Don and Steve joined me for a walk from the coffee shop to Fairhaven, where we wanted to see the burned-out building that caught fire and was completely destroyed late on December 16. For weeks the authorities had suspected that a missing man had died in the fire. He had not been seen or heard from since the fire, and he often spent the night there, since he was the owner of both the coffee shop and restaurant housed in the building. They found a body that was identified as likely Nate Breaux a couple of days ago. An autopsy should confirm the identity. Nate's parents have been in the city for the past week, hoping for news, even if it wasn't what they hoped for.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uOB9iOoQMaoVWciUcbGNqeE4vr5K7CCkKkAj0nfBpc_9Gk-UiRRW0jP7CWQdXD5JBxRC4sHvFgdFR9k_tomzD9kd8240d2_LlEdFxx-sNtMNGYqyfI8oAnvM1WAY6B7PLoK5mRiMXV9rJPYyEA4i55QGh_7fyzZXW_cNQEK1eVdbeN5Plp7nqdT-g7I/s1280/IMG_8733.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uOB9iOoQMaoVWciUcbGNqeE4vr5K7CCkKkAj0nfBpc_9Gk-UiRRW0jP7CWQdXD5JBxRC4sHvFgdFR9k_tomzD9kd8240d2_LlEdFxx-sNtMNGYqyfI8oAnvM1WAY6B7PLoK5mRiMXV9rJPYyEA4i55QGh_7fyzZXW_cNQEK1eVdbeN5Plp7nqdT-g7I/w400-h300/IMG_8733.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don, me, JJ and Steve</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>We walked across the street from the fire and sat down with JJ, who witnessed the whole thing, sort of. He's a statue of JJ Donovan, who moved to Fairhaven in 1888 to build a railroad to bring his coal from Skagit County to the newly established town of Fairhaven. He looks pretty dressed up compared to us, but I guess he was dressed for a special occasion. Maybe he was sculpted from a photograph, but I don't know for sure.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm convinced we will find out soon enough whose body they found, and I sure hope they find out two things: how the fire started, and a hope that Nate was not conscious but perhaps died of smoke inhalation before... well, you know. Anyway, it was just one more awful thing that happened during the year we will put to bed tonight. All the climate disasters, the wars, and more. Nicholas Kristof of the New York Times put it quite well in his <b><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2023/12/30/opinion/2023-humanity-poverty-growth.html">end-of-year post</a></b>:</div><div><blockquote><i>As the year ends, civilians are dying at a staggering pace in Gaza and the genocide in Darfur may be resuming. A man charged with 91 felonies is leading in American presidential polls, and our carbon emissions risk cooking our planet.</i></blockquote></div><div>It's well worth reading the entire article, if you can find the time. This one ends on a hopeful note, and since we are all so tired of the unremittingly bad news, it's well worth a read. After viewing the remains of the building, we walked back the way we had come, covering more than five miles and enjoying the incredibly mild weather and lack of rain. It's almost ten degrees warmer than normal for this time of the year in our part of the country. We will probably get real winter weather before spring shows up, though.</div><div><br /></div><div><span> Last week I got a full measure of exercise, which has been hard for me to get lately, so I was pleased that I was able to hike with the Trailblazers both Tuesday and Thursday, and got almost a full six miles with the guys yesterday. I also worked out in the Senior Center's gym for some upper body exercise. Considering that my ancient body is holding up so well, I am feeling quite fortunate and grateful. I will take this state of happy equilibrium for as long as it lasts.</span><br /></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>I'm sure that many of us are parceling the news into our daily diet carefully, so we don't get overwhelmed with it all. There's nothing to be done from my vantage point, although I still cannot help but get pulled down if I don't watch out. And that does nobody any good. Keeping a positive attitude is essential to my own health, and I suspect yours as well. And tomorrow we start a brand new year! Tonight the old year will be retired and the new one, filled with our hopes and desires for peace and tranquility, will arrive. Another milestone comes to give us a marker as we move through our lives.</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>I have been reading quite a lot on my Kindle lately, which makes it so much easier for me to see with its "low vision" setting. I can read for more than an hour before I need to stop and rest my eyes. If I allowed myself to get all gloomy over my failing eyesight, it wouldn't change anything except to make me sad, in the face of all the wonderful ways to appreciate being alive and functioning so well in the present moment. As I begin this new year, I am filled with optimism and hope.</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div>I am also continuing to study Buddhism and find it very helpful to see how sages of the past went about their daily lives. I recently discovered what Buddhists call the <b><i>three poisons</i></b>, three things that make our lives so much better or worse, depending on how we deal with them. Those three poisons are GREED, ANGER, and IGNORANCE. What surprises me is how relevant these teachings are to today's world. Then I realize that we are all, every one of us as we move through time and space, in the same boat. We are humans trying to find ways to live our best lives.</div><div><br /></div><div>The best part of looking at those three poisons is seeing how I might change them into their opposites in my own daily life. I am not often a greedy person, but I realize I can easily become more conscious of how I can share my bounty with others. It's what I am doing by writing this post, for one thing. Letting you know how I live and function in society. We (hubby and me) are in the phase of letting go of stuff, rather than amassing more of it. For Christmas we didn't exchange gifts; there is simply nothing that we need more of. Instead we enjoyed each other's company, good food, and (for me) some good beer. It is enough.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anger is a little harder to deal with, since so much of what is going on in the world causes me to become upset and want to change things. Of course, the only thing I can really do something about is my own internal mindset. Taking a deep breath, realizing that my own state of mind is essential to my happiness, and saying a prayer for equilibrium always helps me in the moment. And I don't think that allowing myself to get angry does anything to change the outside world, but it does plenty to disrupt my own internal one. </div><div><br /></div><div>And finally, ignorance. We are all ignorant in some aspects, but there are ways to overcome it. Opening my mind to the wisdom of others, educating myself rather than sticking by old prejudices and habits. Ignorance can only be overcome by knowledge. We are all endowed with the incredible ability to learn and change our minds when we discover wisdom. It is available to anyone willing to let go of old ways of thinking. We can all become wise and compassionate.</div><div><div></div></div><blockquote><div><div><i>The limits of the possible can only be defined by going beyond them into the impossible.</i> —Arthur C. Clarke</div></div><div></div></blockquote><div>Those three poisons are ones that we can turn into their opposites, with enough of us willing to apply the medicine that heals us: loving kindness and compassion. I know it sounds impossible, but just writing about this has opened my heart to new ways of being in the world. Instead of a cramped feeling in my chest, I feel the expansion of love filling it and I feel myself opening up to joy. That is what I wish for you, too.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am looking over at my dear partner, still sleeping next to me, and I know that today we will hug each other many times and share laughter together. Whether your day looks anything like mine, I sincerely hope that you will find your own ways to mitigate those three poisons and perhaps share them with me. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Truly.</div><div><br /></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-59596622343465227582023-12-24T06:55:00.000-08:002023-12-24T06:55:45.853-08:00Christmas Eve 2023<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBXm3_kR03G6hv4rFDfINh6rXWvjNnoFbPvYDhnTHehnJrIA5SUtzZ5SoiKm4fb-wGMGzyQeoPe8bNgDaEz3WTlAlEkaKYg9EvBJDA_rgbOsEKWEHl39jRt3FrWvQEmAbga8hh9ho8S6LMpWv8dNKygp5qyXLN8-WInKkha65BIXt5kuwJg9XWB_TehLA/s1280/IMG_4473.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBXm3_kR03G6hv4rFDfINh6rXWvjNnoFbPvYDhnTHehnJrIA5SUtzZ5SoiKm4fb-wGMGzyQeoPe8bNgDaEz3WTlAlEkaKYg9EvBJDA_rgbOsEKWEHl39jRt3FrWvQEmAbga8hh9ho8S6LMpWv8dNKygp5qyXLN8-WInKkha65BIXt5kuwJg9XWB_TehLA/w300-h400/IMG_4473.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Capilano Bridge</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>My routine has been completely disrupted by a sweet gift given to me by my friend Lily. She and another friend decided to treat me to an amazing day and night by taking me to the <b><a href="https://www.capbridge.com/experiences/the-suspension-bridge/">Capilano Bridge</a></b> in North Vancouver, Canada. We started in the early afternoon, first by going across the border on Christmas weekend, meaning it took an hour to cross, but we did finally manage. Then driving in horrendous traffic until we found the area in which to park the car for the festivities, which was of course full up. We had to park quite a ways away and be shuttled to the park.</div><div><br /></div><div>But once we got there, we were just three people in a mass of humanity, the likes of which I haven't seen for decades. Long rope lines kept people moving in the right direction, as we headed towards the bridge itself. This bridge is just under 500 feet in length, and stretches across the Capilano River, a long ways below us. I was truly unprepared for the experience of stepping onto the wobbly suspension bridge, which swayed mightily as the crowds of people went across.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC74mTdgrOLVDPegb1xz4YItC_TxxTg0OGry_-3nR6Ts1IrfM45avzn2uiafEm8oAKZoaj0MHpup_zkyyEWIuhaJ9WKZTBimBz41E5H86sK6_OOpWAaeYERwqDLvLeA-2KlQ76KYOFCNFwy4l5t6a837GAFX16o6voz_qS3Ip3ix9r3NMh9dJ3Uk4UA44/s1280/IMG_8682.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC74mTdgrOLVDPegb1xz4YItC_TxxTg0OGry_-3nR6Ts1IrfM45avzn2uiafEm8oAKZoaj0MHpup_zkyyEWIuhaJ9WKZTBimBz41E5H86sK6_OOpWAaeYERwqDLvLeA-2KlQ76KYOFCNFwy4l5t6a837GAFX16o6voz_qS3Ip3ix9r3NMh9dJ3Uk4UA44/w400-h300/IMG_8682.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bridge </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>I thought maybe by the time I got to the center, it would stop moving quite so much, but it was just more intense. I never felt good about it, and held onto the side with real fear. It's one thing to be on a suspension bridge, but to be there with so many other people, and having wonky eyesight on top of that, it was quite the experience indeed. I am glad we went, but I was also glad when we made it across to the other side.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, after the hours-long experience of the bridge and the sights to be seen, we drove to one of Lily's favorite restaurants in Canada and had dinner. This was at 7:00pm at night, and at first I wasn't going to eat much, but I was famished, so I had a wonderful salad and (of course) a beer! But the night wasn't over yet; we still had to get back across the border. This time, however, since it was much later, it was only a fifteen-minute crossing. And then we headed home. I was home and safe in bed by a little after 10:00pm. This might not sound late to you, but I collapsed into bed and slept dreamlessly until this morning. I am in no shape to contemplate a post, so I decided to give you the treat of an old Christmas Eve post, from 2012, eleven Christmas Eves ago. It was a favorite, and I hope you will enjoy it too</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">* * *</div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJfb4weoJAksxkLZLcWjCFBEiNa6SlG38sBLEjBjgDeqXLkgVYWKFSAieSsUncz1nHYkyTW6r5qNM5bEjfLaM_umH2fi9azKh4wAjRK4FbeeWzclKztEyRfqgPpAcW62msWNlA-_Qag1Fy8x45dVtDzkWWe18dQFhzBotjW5Uwf6t3ZzzgoRocM49P2Q/s400/eloy02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="308" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNJfb4weoJAksxkLZLcWjCFBEiNa6SlG38sBLEjBjgDeqXLkgVYWKFSAieSsUncz1nHYkyTW6r5qNM5bEjfLaM_umH2fi9azKh4wAjRK4FbeeWzclKztEyRfqgPpAcW62msWNlA-_Qag1Fy8x45dVtDzkWWe18dQFhzBotjW5Uwf6t3ZzzgoRocM49P2Q/w308-h400/eloy02.jpg" width="308" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas Eve 2002</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's been ten years [NB: longer than that now] since Mike McGowan took that picture of me. Every Christmas Smart Guy and I would spend in Eloy, attending the <b><a href="http://www.skydiveaz.com/experienced/events/detail/2012/09/26/2012-holiday-boogie">Holiday Boogie at Skydive Arizona</a></b>. I started going a couple of times every year to Arizona when I lived in Boulder, Colorado. It was just short of a thousand miles away, a couple of long days driving. If the weather looked iffy, we took the southern route; otherwise we drove north to I-80 and then south through Flagstaff on our way to Eloy, which is situated off I-10 between Phoenix and Tucson.<br /><br />My boss Mickey knew I would want two weeks off during the holidays, and every year before I took off he would hand me a check for $500, knowing full well just where I would spend it. This was out of his own pocket, as we didn't get any kind of bonus at the National Center for Atmospheric Research. Mickey is a very generous person, and I took full advantage of his largess over the years. (Of course, thirty years of working together meant that he also took advantage of me at times.)<br /><br />That year, 2002, was momentous for me. My son Chris died in August and I had spent the previous three months grieving for my loss. And then earlier in December I turned sixty, which seemed old, very old to me, especially since I was involved in skydiving, which most people think of as a daredevil sport designed for youngsters. (There are plenty of older skydivers, by the way.)<br /><br />The night before this picture was taken, I had been sitting in the Bent Prop, the local diner at Skydive Arizona, and Mike McGowan and I talked for awhile about life and loss. He's no stranger to loss himself, and he commiserated with me over Chris' sudden passing. Mike has his own photography business, <b><a href="http://www.funairphotos.com/">FunAir Productions</a></b>, and he spends his days during the boogie getting on loads and taking pictures of various skydives. At the end of each day, we would gather in the hangar looking at the proofs he posted for any interested customer to purchase. I bought many from him over the years, when I would want to have a keepsake of a particular skydive.<br /><br />I don't remember the skydive I had just completed when the picture was taken, but I do know that Mike was not on it. He had just landed from another skydive when I saw him on the ground in front of me. He used a flash and I saw it light up but thought nothing of it. He's a professional photographer, after all, and I thought he probably took pictures every chance he got. It was Christmas Eve, and the sunset after a beautiful day spent in the Arizona sky was a perfect way to end the day.<br /><br />A few hours later I was again sitting in the Bent Prop when Mike came over and sat down across from me. We spoke of the beautiful day we had just experienced, and we wished each other Merry Christmas when he handed me a 9x12 brown envelope. Mike waited while I opened it to see the picture. Then he left me speechless, as both of us teared up, no further explanation needed. A gesture of love and a Christmas present like no other I have ever received.<br /><br />I'm sure Mike is still out there in Eloy taking pictures and posting them every evening in the hangar, but it's been five years since I last attended the boogie. Now that I'm living in Washington state, it's no longer a short drive, and living on a fixed income doesn't give me the same chance to spend money like I did a decade ago. But I still have my memories, and I'm still skydiving seasonally when the weather cooperates. Friendship doesn't go away, and I know if I saw Mike again it would be like old times.<br /><br />For some reason that James Taylor song <i>Fire and Rain</i> has been going through my mind the entire time I've been writing this post. You know the one I mean:<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>I've seen fire and I've seen rain<br />I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end<br />I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend<br />But I always thought that I'd see you again.</i></blockquote>Who knows what the future holds? Another Christmas Eve is upon us, isn't it?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">* * *</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And now, here I am sitting in the dark in my usual spot for Sunday morning, dear husband sleeping quietly next to me, and I need to get myself up and ready for the breakfast that John and I will be enjoying together. Not that I'm hungry, after last night's dinner, but I'll manage. And then life will return to Christmas Eve normality. Until we meet again next week, I wish you the happiest of holidays, dear friends.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-25709551629343779332023-12-17T06:25:00.000-08:002023-12-17T06:25:15.698-08:00Old growth trees and more<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBr60SVizDGAOiRCkojJN7esQSvQktmHGRhw73AttPFbHvTvWdjclTdHZ_eH5zMSLCvPBXgBban8ZDJ3S9l3q8GSpYXeRmdFPe9sX9zKDi0TLB5Hf_h1v7nqhG0ddpPJ3snt2hUiztcM2YZetYjlMDbCRSPJPdbozM8qW1wAFBapK0CjLjqwGMp2FmyPY/s1280/Redcedar.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="1280" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBr60SVizDGAOiRCkojJN7esQSvQktmHGRhw73AttPFbHvTvWdjclTdHZ_eH5zMSLCvPBXgBban8ZDJ3S9l3q8GSpYXeRmdFPe9sX9zKDi0TLB5Hf_h1v7nqhG0ddpPJ3snt2hUiztcM2YZetYjlMDbCRSPJPdbozM8qW1wAFBapK0CjLjqwGMp2FmyPY/w400-h399/Redcedar.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two thousand-year-old red cedar</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I found a truly <b><a href="https://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/the-quest-for-an-ancient-colossus-in-the-wild-rainforest-of-b-c-1.6537194">inspiring story</a></b> about this wonderful old growth tree in British Columbia, which is being protected by those who know where it is, in order to keep it from being logged. Just look at the person in the picture (lower left) to get an idea of the size of this tree. For me, it's unimaginable that someone might look at this ancient specimen and only think of acre-feet to be harvested. I thought that Canada was more enlightened than those of us in the US, but I was wrong to think that. Greed crosses borders without anybody being the wiser. But there is an organization in British Columbia, called the <b><a href="https://ancientforestalliance.org/">Ancient Forest Alliance</a></b>, that is working hard to protect the remaining old growth forests in and around British Columbia.<div><br /></div><div>Three years ago, the Canadian government passed a law that any old growth trees of a diameter more than 4.6 meters must be protected and nor harvested. But it turns out that this law has been ignored during the time since it was passed. You cannot just replant an old growth tree and wait for it to grow old. We are such ephemeral creatures. we only last for at most a century, and these trees were around long, long ago that in some places they are older than civilization as we know it today. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have seen some old growth myself, while hiking with the Senior Trailblazers, but nothing like the size of the ancient trees I've learned about lately. It is truly amazing to think that anything lives that long, and to think that some people don't find these ancient forests worth protecting just boggles my mind. Anyway, there is so much going on around these ancient forests, and I am hoping that the current initiatives to save them will be successful. They are irreplaceable.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love forests of all kinds, old and young, and I've had to hike through clear-cut areas all around Bellingham, where the forest has been decimated in order to log the valuable trees, and then replanted with new trees. And I have been hiking long enough to see some forests begin to recover, with trees growing from saplings into ones almost as high as me. But they are just babies and won't be available to become lumber for many decades. I know some people think it's silly to love trees, but I am definitely not one of them. Although I am writing about them, I do hope that it will serve only to bring attention to their plight. It's not my intention to awaken anybody's desire to harvest them. So I write this and hope my readers will take into account their incredible value, and perhaps even donate to the cause. </div><div><br /></div><div>So it is with trepidation that I even bring them to your attention through this post. While it's important to be cognizant of the need to protect them, it's also important to retain their secrets and keep them from the public eye. Only then will I feel I've helped and not harmed these magnificent creatures. How about you? What's the biggest tree you have ever seen?</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">* * *</div><div><br /></div><div><div>I am feeling pretty good after having caught my first cold since the pandemic began and I started wearing masks. I think I caught it last week while attending the strength training class. We were all fairly close to one another and breathing hard at times. I first felt a scratchiness in my throat, but it wasn't bad, and then I began sneezing and feeling a little under the weather. Within two days, however, all my symptoms were gone, and a covid test told me I didn't have the dreaded virus. Another one confirmed them, and then SG got sick last night with a sore throat. He took the covid test and it came out negative. We have both been vaccinated and boosted, and have gotten our flu shots, so if we do get sick, it's probably not going to land us in the hospital, even at our advanced ages. (Famous last words, eh?)</div><div><br />What I had forgotten is that feeling of being healthy and happy that comes after the cold recedes. I am feeling better than I did before I got sick, and sniffles and congestion are long gone. And it's been less than a week, so I am heartened that it was just a regular old cold. Today is a new day, and I'm looking forward to seeing my friend John, who will drive us to Fairhaven for breakfast, just like we've been doing for years. I like routine and familiarity, but you probably already knew that about me. Writing this Sunday morning post, for instance, has been going on for many years now. This is my 735th Sunday morning post, which translates into an impressive number of years. I've not missed a post, even while I've been traveling. In 2015, I remember writing one propping up in my bed in Istanbul, listening to the call to prayer outside. Also I've written them while visiting my sister in Florida, surrounded by cuddly dogs. It's been awhile since I've been anywhere other than in my own bed, with my dear sweet guy sleeping quietly next to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>What is my sense of adventure? It's still there, even as an octogenarian. I have put behind me the chills and thrills of skydiving, but I still dream of those days when I climbed outside an airplane, holding on until it was time for me to let go and join the others who jumped with me. I now find chills and thrills by going on a hard hike and climbing to places with cliffs that show what distance I've covered. I am still an adventurer, but my adventures have changed as the decades have passed. Emotionally I am still young and unchanged from the passage through life.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am running out of time to finish this post. When perusing brainyquote, I found a quote that struck me with its relevance, but I cannot seem to find any way to build the words around it to make it fit. I thought about deleting it, but I won't, because each time I read it, I feel myself resonate with it. Here it is:<br /><p></p><div><div><blockquote><i>If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down. </i>—Ray Bradbury</blockquote><p>I can feel myself building my wings every single day that I awake with a new day ahead, with happy moments in my future. That's because I can imagine whatever I want, and hopefully it will all come true. I do hope that the coming weeks will bring many wonderful new adventures in whatever flavor you choose: big or small, but in any event delightful and fulfilling. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things, dear friends.</p><p> </p></div></div></div></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-87764176369786820182023-12-10T06:19:00.000-08:002023-12-10T06:19:06.073-08:00Unexpectedly wet walk<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkk4LrOuIPNvjv7jO1nFzyEPiiLhR2EDl5JuRg3vy73pHNlijRxQADs3fy0h1UCoFK0LPPv2uk6LztvMEir8iSacAMV3T4b90_ITMvEIAze3HdRz_SoeUHHg_slRyOA35PJcV0mmke-Ijbm4GtzloJgEhzfxUZ3DlOr5wZB2Ea7R1rgesxSBoO07CtwQ/s1280/IMG_0004.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkk4LrOuIPNvjv7jO1nFzyEPiiLhR2EDl5JuRg3vy73pHNlijRxQADs3fy0h1UCoFK0LPPv2uk6LztvMEir8iSacAMV3T4b90_ITMvEIAze3HdRz_SoeUHHg_slRyOA35PJcV0mmke-Ijbm4GtzloJgEhzfxUZ3DlOr5wZB2Ea7R1rgesxSBoO07CtwQ/w400-h300/IMG_0004.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">String quartet at Adagio's</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It sure seemed like it would be a normal walk yesterday, with my friends Steve and Don, as we set out from the coffee shop under mostly cloudy skies to walk to Squalicum Harbor, which is one of our favorites. We walked across the bridge and saw the snout of a seal sticking out of the water, checking out the scene. After we had navigated a couple of miles, suddenly we saw it: a squall of wind and water heading our way. Our nice dry walk turned into a torrent of icy pellets, plenty of regular old rain, and heavy wind. In nothing flat, we were soaked and turned around to head back into town. Steve took us on a shortcut, so we only managed a brief three-miler, but the weather made it quite exciting. Don took off for his car as soon as we got close, but I decided to go inside the coffee shop and get myself a hot chocolate and try to dry out a little. Steve came in for a few minutes, but then he took off too. <p></p><p>I was surprised to see that string quartet in there, playing lots of Christmas tunes, and it was really nice to be indoors and have a place to gather myself together. Everything I had on was soaked, except for my rain pants, which were snug inside my pack, where I had brought them just in case. I decided it was not worth trying to get them on while I was struggling to stand upright. Once we made it back to the coffee shop, I found an open table and sat down to enjoy an incredibly good (and plenty warm) hot chocolate. I felt quite happy after having a few minutes of relaxation, safe from the storm. It continued to rain and blow, but once I felt ready, I made a beeline to my car and drove home. No desire to set out again for the rest of the day.</p><p>And, as it turned out, the rain never let up. Today we are expected to get more heavy rain, which means the streams and rivers around here will finally overflow their banks. It's above freezing, but only by a few degrees, and my heart goes out to all those poor homeless people who are just trying to stay dry and warm. I have a nice warm home, and plenty of warm clothes and blankets. It makes me feel guilty for having such luxuries while there are people all around the world who don't have anywhere to go to escape their misery. I woke in the middle of the night and couldn't go back to sleep, thinking about it all. </p><p></p><blockquote><i>What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.</i> —Saint Augustine</blockquote><p>The middle of the night has passed, without me finding any respite in sleep. I did wake my guy and we huddled together in the dark, talking about our various states of mind. It never fails to make me feel better when I feel his arms around me, another fellow traveler through this life, sharing the good and the not so good, which is just part of the human condition. I want to spend my days and hours in love, and Saint Augustine reminds me that love is not all hearts and flowers, but seeing others as they are and helping however we can. Right now that help will be in the form of a post, one that will hopefully be uplifting to myself and in the process, help others.</p><p>I could easily list the terrible happenings I read about and see on the news every day, but that would not be helpful, plus you probably already know about them. Instead, in this season of dark nights and grey days, perhaps it would be more useful to consider that in just a few short weeks, the days will begin to lengthen (slowly), the sun will shine intermittently, and soon we will begin a new year, another journey around the sun. We will bob up and down in harmony with the ocean swells as we hold onto each other in our little lifeboats in the enormity that is our lives.</p><p>Yesterday, while wrapped in a blanket in my easy chair, I watched a wonderful documentary on PBS about <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyrus_Wong">Tyrus Wong</a></b>, a Chinese-born American artist who came to this country in the 1930s and became an influential artist in many areas: as a painter, animator, calligrapher, muralist, ceramicist, lithographer and kite maker, as well as a set designer and storyboard artist. My first experience of his art was when I watched <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bambi">Bambi</a></b>, as a young child, an animated story about a deer and his friends. It was produced by Disney and came to the screen in 1942, the year I was born. In the documentary, I learned that his art was very different from anything created earlier, using minimalist backgrounds and charming brushstrokes. It has become a classic.</p><p></p><blockquote><i>In June 2008, the American Film Institute presented a list of its "10 Top 10"—the best ten films in each of ten classic American film genres—after polling over 1,500 people from the creative community. Bambi placed third in animation. In December 2011, the film was added to the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically and aesthetically significant." </i>(Wikipedia)</blockquote><p> Although Tyrus was discriminated against because of his ethnicity, he never seemed to take it personally and never stopped trying to create. He married Ruth Kim in 1937 and became father to three daughters. He and his father immigrated illegally in 1920 until the Chinese Exclusion Act was repealed in 1946. He then became an American citizen and found work at Disney Studios and later Warner Brothers. When I think of how hard his life was, and how successful he became, I realize that there is nothing that cannot be overcome, with (as he said) "luck and hard work."</p><p>Tyrus died in 2016 at the age of 106, having changed the face of animation forever, and having created so much that is still being discovered today. For many years, his contribution to Bambi was unknown. After having watched that documentary, I realize that I too was unaware of the depth and breadth of his creative talents. How many other wonderful people have I missed, or worse, misjudged, in my own life? Perhaps it's more important for me to take stock of my life today, as well as my friends and family, and examine it and them for clues to unrecognized talent.</p><p>One thing I know for sure: that in taking a look outside of my own life at the world around me, with all its depth and possibility for change, there is a way to be hopeful and filled with love for it all. Yes, all of it, if I can let go of judgment and simply let it in. I realize that just being tuned into the disasters and pain of the world that fills the TV screen are NOT all there is to see and experience. I will not let myself get pulled into the misery, when all I have to do is look over at my dear sweet partner, placidly sleeping next to me as I write, to realize that cultivating an "attitude of gratitude" will go a long way toward healing my worldview.</p><p>And you, my dear virtual family, will hopefully find your own way to happiness as you navigate the shoals of your own life. We do get to choose, you know. My tea is long gone, and my day will begin once I finish this post and climb out of bed to enjoy the rain and wait for my friend John to take me to Sunday breakfast once again. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I do hope you find a way to relax and enjoy the moment just a bit. I know I will be doing that, too. I wish you all good things and wish you many happy returns of the season.</p><p></p><p></p>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-21765994305668162502023-12-03T06:13:00.000-08:002023-12-03T09:13:45.097-08:00Holiday activities ahead<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-DqrIeDA55yvpjbn9TQ7qbSlbwjiHg9C_LulEy11wtPaKnWjTabP_Ga69YxRIc2RpO_Ffm6R-VlAoL69yWZJ8ew7ykr5xGascieM3mXAmlKhOTbyzFnIVTMOQJGqHxJOyAduPM5L1tIqZIlCjtl4NmAeiU0OAEHKDcMjwaUih9VJ-XJxqExWSSxq-vPU/s1280/IMG_8611.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-DqrIeDA55yvpjbn9TQ7qbSlbwjiHg9C_LulEy11wtPaKnWjTabP_Ga69YxRIc2RpO_Ffm6R-VlAoL69yWZJ8ew7ykr5xGascieM3mXAmlKhOTbyzFnIVTMOQJGqHxJOyAduPM5L1tIqZIlCjtl4NmAeiU0OAEHKDcMjwaUih9VJ-XJxqExWSSxq-vPU/w400-h320/IMG_8611.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from Eagle Cliff</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Well, I can now say that I had the best birthday week of my life. Or that I can remember, at least. It started on Monday with a new class, strength training, that will continue until December 22. Twice a week I will get instructed, along with my other classmates, on the correct operation of the fifteen exercise stations in the Senior Center's gym. I have already used a couple of machines that I've never been on before: the abdominal crunch and the low back extender. I started on low weights, since I have plenty of "stuff" going on in those areas. It's also fun learning new skills. </div><div><br /></div><div>As the week went on, I got a good acupuncture treatment, a fabulous massage from my regular therapist, and a super-wonderful hike on Wednesday, to a place new to me: Cypress Island in the San Juans. That picture was taken from the high point of our several hikes. It's a thousand feet above the water, and we traversed it in just over a mile's distance. That means, yes, it was steep. I couldn't have done it without my trekking poles. But all twelve of us made it to the top, before turning around and carefully descending to get to our pickup spot with our water taxi boat.</div><div><br /></div><div>And now I am well and truly into my eighties. I cannot help but wonder how I managed to be in such good shape at this time in my life, and although I've got pins in my back and knees, I still seem to be able to hike nine miles! It must be all the years I've continued to exercise, but I don't know for sure what might be the reason. Good genes? My parents didn't manage to make it out of their sixties, but they didn't have statins and died of heart disease. I sometimes wonder how long they might have lasted if their hearts had been healthy. All I know for sure is that I must continue to be vigilant and take care of my physical self for as long as I can. We all do end at some point not too far into the future. I won't know until I get there.</div><div><div><blockquote><i>Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards</i>. —Soren Kierkegaard</blockquote></div><div>Perhaps it's normal, but since I've never been this old before, I do begin to wonder how it will all finish up. Not having grandchildren, or even living children, there is nobody who will grieve too terribly when my demise finally comes. At this age, there are only a few options that I can think of: physical illness, an accident, dementia perhaps. Now that my birthday has passed for the year, I intend to enjoy all the holiday hoopla. Sedately, that is. I will probably attend two or three holiday parties and will see good friends, but for the most part SG and I will just continue to carry on our daily activities as usual. We have a particularly soggy forecast for the next week or so, with as much as three or four inches of rain coming our way through an atmospheric river. At least that means it will be warm and not freezing. At this moment, early in the morning, it's already 41°F with a light rain. Being a Pacific Northwesterner, I have lots of raincoats and rain pants. It is truly amazing what a difference it makes to have proper gear for the weather. I almost look forward to it.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>I keep thinking about that hike we did last Wednesday and what a beautiful place Cypress Island is. While the days will continue to get even shorter over the next few weeks, it will not be long before we turn the corner and begin to see more light in the morning sky. By the end of January, it will be very noticeable. That picture above was taken at the end of November with the sun low on the horizon at around 2:30 in the afternoon, but soon we will have reached the nadir. I believe the first day of winter starts on December 21, with it also being the beginning of summer in the Southern Hemisphere. I love seeing the changing seasons, and still am amazed that we have summer beginning somewhere on the planet, while some of us begin our winter. It seems that 12% of the human population lives Down Under. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday I enjoyed a nice five-mile walk from the coffee shop, with friends Steve and Don. We were ready for the rain, which continued all night, but just for us the sun came out and we saw blue skies. Today will begin with "sprinkles" and change to actual rain by noon or so. I do hope I will be able to get out for at least a short walk, and that I can put on all my rain gear and pretend I'm related to the ducks. When I was a young girl, I remember wearing galoshes and carrying an umbrella. Although I own an umbrella, I rarely use it here, because when it rains, it usually blows as well. You don't see many umbrellas around these parts; mostly used by transplants to the region, I suspect. Just a time or two of having your umbrella blown inside out will discourage its use. </div><div><br /></div><div>Taking stock of where I am in the scheme of things makes me ponder once again how it might all change. After all, change is inevitable, and when I look back at the long arc of my life, I'm thinking that there must be a rainbow somewhere that will show the pot of gold at the ending point. I do like to think that instead of dreary grey skies, I'll be looking at rainbows. I am determined to live every moment of my life in love and gratitude for all that I've been blessed with. Counting one's blessings is always a happy task, no matter what your circumstances might be. (There are exceptions, of course, but attitude does make a huge difference in our perception.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel myself beginning to think ahead to the day's activities: John will be coming around in his truck to take me to Fairhaven for our usual Sunday breakfast. Then I'll return home and spend some time talking with SG about the day ahead. He is busy researching what his next computer will be, while I will spend some time watching a few episodes of <b><a href="https://www.netflix.com/title/80025678">The Crown</a></b> on Netflix. It is currently in its sixth season, and I stopped watching it awhile back and have to finish season five before starting on the current season. Since I was young, I've watched the royal drama, and remember well when William and Harry were born. Now they are parents themselves, and Harry wrote a book about what it was like for him being a member of the royal family. It really does seem odd that we still have kings and queens in some parts of the world, doesn't it? It seems an anachronism to me, but then again, we still have never figured out the best way to govern ourselves. I suppose I won't ever see what the future holds in that regard, but I'm content to imagine a future where we all live in harmony with one another.</div><div><br /></div><div>And with that lovely thought, I think I'll wrap up this holiday gift to my readers, imperfect as it is. When I was a kid, I sometimes created homemade gifts for my parents and family, and I suspect they are just as fondly remembered as anything that could be purchased. The season is upon us, and I wish my dear virtual family all good things in the weeks ahead, and that you will also find a way to count your blessings and share the love. Until we meet again next week, I wish you health, wealth, and happiness.</div><div><br /></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-320825148364429982023-11-26T06:01:00.000-08:002023-11-26T06:01:18.931-08:00Pondering and wandering<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLeIiMyJ2nKQqAUcSk4Q2NU4Klw5Ie322ZKjTOwVBXL9DJ9D7b8LJWW1uvRGG15MJrORQCGZIPxOv13xYglfPI2Bou1xb-A-iYr9cQl5BjbCPT8SXjHvTyog-XjEdLhYJ_RoWMXmRtvlYeHf3T1RxpxxukV2bQiui43khifv8LlT4AFHvH2tq8s2M4A34/s1280/IMG_8569.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLeIiMyJ2nKQqAUcSk4Q2NU4Klw5Ie322ZKjTOwVBXL9DJ9D7b8LJWW1uvRGG15MJrORQCGZIPxOv13xYglfPI2Bou1xb-A-iYr9cQl5BjbCPT8SXjHvTyog-XjEdLhYJ_RoWMXmRtvlYeHf3T1RxpxxukV2bQiui43khifv8LlT4AFHvH2tq8s2M4A34/w400-h300/IMG_8569.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The season is upon us</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Thanksgiving in the country where I live is now behind us, and we are gearing up for the next holiday, Christmas. As I walk to the bus in the morning, each day there are more decorations going up, until the street I walk down will be filled with colored lights and scenes like this one. In this picture, the first light of the day was beginning to decorate the sky, too. The days are short and getting shorter, so we will take the time to bring some light into the darkness. That's sort of what I try to do with these Sunday posts, looking for some light in the darkness, and attempting to spread it around a bit.</p><p>It's been hard lately to find joy and happiness in my days, especially if I let myself get pulled down with the news of the world. From burgeoning wars, desperate people trying to stay out of harm's way where nowhere exists for them, people without food, water, clothing and shelter as winter begins. If I let myself, I can get overwhelmed with it all, and that helps no one, particularly myself. So, it's a balancing act between the news and watching escapist TV, or reading an uplifting book to focus my thoughts elsewhere. I also try not to feel guilty for all my good fortune.</p><p>As usual, I get my regular exercise to work out the kinks. I always, without fail, feel better after going outdoors and walking in nature for any length of time. Yesterday I walked with my friends Steve and Don to Fairhaven, and we were at first quite cold (below freezing) but since we had full sunshine, it didn't take long before we were shedding hats and coats. Just being able to walk 6+ miles fills me with gratitude. I am losing some of my abilities, but I am still able to walk at a three-mile-an-hour pace for awhile. I cannot be unhappy about that!</p><p>My eyesight continues to deteriorate, and I realize now that my right eye can no longer focus well, since the missing vision has almost completely covered its focal point. It means that now I have little depth perception, and although both of my eyes' peripheral vision is good, the left eye has become my better and more dominant one. I don't wish macular degeneration on anybody and am just glad that I can still drive short distances with care. Those days are numbered, though. Thank goodness we have such an extensive public transit system here and, given enough time, I can get anywhere around town I need to go by bus.</p><p>Do you have nightmares? I hardly ever do, but the other night I had one that won't go away. It was so real and detailed that I can still, three days later, see scenes in my mind's eye that occurred in it. I had been looking forward to taking a hot bath, and in my dream I had settled into the steamy bathtub when I realized that my mother was in the bath with me, propped against the side of the huge tub. But she didn't seem to be breathing, so I tried to arouse her, with no luck. Then I realized that she had slipped under the water and had drowned. I tried CPR (which I have never given) and kept trying to get some reaction from her. Nothing. So I pulled her out of the water and tried to find help, but when I tried to scream, only a little squeak came out of my mouth. That is when I woke up, realizing it was a dream. Mama has been gone since 1993, so where in the world did that nightmare come from? Perhaps it is from trying to keep my own head above water as I deal with the helplessness I feel.</p><blockquote><p><i>What is the appropriate behavior for a man or a woman in the midst of this world, where each person is clinging to one's piece of debris? What's the proper salutation between people as they pass each other in this flood?</i> —Buddha</p></blockquote><p>When I look around at the beautiful and peaceful environment that surrounds me, I can only wish that I could somehow give that gift to the suffering world. And I must remember that it helps absolutely no one to allow myself to give up and sink into despair. There is so much to be thankful for in every life, and that should guide my mental wanderings, not to focus on the hard parts, but look for the joy that exists everywhere, even in war zones. Although the world will not be peaceful for many centuries to come, it will always have little pockets of happiness to be uncovered and appreciated. Love is always somewhere to be found and I will do my very best to love as many fellow travelers as I can. When my heart is filled with love and joy, it's like a little candle I have lit and I can look for others to share it with, lighting their own candle from its light. Soon, just like the colored lights on my neighborhood street, the darkness can be pushed back a bit.</p><p>Several remarkable things will happen for me this week: I will start a strength training class at the Senior Center that I signed up for months ago. It will continue until December 22 with eight sessions, when I will then have finished the training and can then use the facilities whenever I want. On Wednesday, I will join some other Senior Trailblazers as we make another boat trip on a water taxi to spend the day hiking around Cypress Island. Last month we went to Sucia Island. I've never been on this island before and look forward to a great adventure. Then on Friday, I will celebrate my eighty-first birthday with a massage and another strength training class. </p><p>A full week, and I am so blessed to have such good friends to enjoy it with. And of course, I always look forward to hearing what is going on in the lives of my dear virtual family, of which you are part, hoping that you will be close enough to someone's little candle to light up your days. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.</p><p><br /></p>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-39733713085798116712023-11-19T05:55:00.000-08:002023-11-19T05:55:41.019-08:00Thanksgiving week<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmx6_VcwidUxebdTKQ9FjYHinodYFSu9zirOOUNQ3snMqK3MWAbIPpeY2pkwb-WhmmXutJ6UGSbP0Tvv1GQoKMTU4vIIpwnz9oTQfZ5MGfOlcIWvCK7GisTKkcHIRyOfmUfg1OI-X9Zjwf6w5uvzvnGbPfOcH-QwrkeAkwsXCxOrkWIEAMC1PLXSgW-E/s1280/IMG_7586.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmx6_VcwidUxebdTKQ9FjYHinodYFSu9zirOOUNQ3snMqK3MWAbIPpeY2pkwb-WhmmXutJ6UGSbP0Tvv1GQoKMTU4vIIpwnz9oTQfZ5MGfOlcIWvCK7GisTKkcHIRyOfmUfg1OI-X9Zjwf6w5uvzvnGbPfOcH-QwrkeAkwsXCxOrkWIEAMC1PLXSgW-E/w400-h300/IMG_7586.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Padden on a calm day</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Anyone who has lived in Bellingham for awhile, and who also likes to go on some easy to moderate hikes, has discovered this gem: Lake Padden. If you take the loop around the lake, it's 2.6 miles, or twice around for a perfect workout distance. At least it's just right for me. I've taken this exact picture many times over the years, but there is usually at least a little breeze to stir up the water. Not on this lovely calm day, however. The lake is a smooth as glass.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's Sunday before the big holiday when thousands, if not millions, of turkeys give up their giblets in order for the entire US to indulge in the first of the holiday traditions: overeating and consuming lots and lots of food. This year, if I had just one wish, it would be to transport half of the haul to Gaza to feed those starving and displaced Palestinians. But I cannot, so I will instead send some money to <b><a href="https://donate.doctorswithoutborders.org/secure/help-save-lives-oct-rr-paid?ms=ADD2310U1U81&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=BRAND.DWB_CKMSF-BRAND.DWB-GS-GS-ALL-GazaRR.Exact-BO-ALL-RSA-GazaSupportRR23-ONETIME&gclid=Cj0KCQiA3uGqBhDdARIsAFeJ5r1gBZNlfgSZT0W7iFWvKz3ALS-guVULnTcH-6J7zXSg0vr2N7Z0rfwaAjRfEALw_wcB">Doctors Without Borders</a></b> to help them to get something, anything at all to them, along with my heartfelt prayers for better days ahead.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've never been alive without wars going on in many different places on our beautiful blue globe. However, it's never seemed like we've had so many major conflicts at once, but it could just be because I'm paying closer attention in my waning years. The only thing I can be really positive about is that I will not live to see a harmonious free world during my lifetime. This lifetime, anyway. Maybe if I come back in a hundred years, maybe as a <i>bodhisattva</i>, I'll be able to be more sanguine about things. What is a bodhisattva, you ask? In Buddhist teachings, it's a being who is able to reach nirvana but delays doing so out of compassion for the suffering of others. Until that day comes, if it ever does, I'll be spending my remaining time helping others in whatever way I can.</div><div><blockquote><div><i>Our human compassion binds us the one to the other — not in pity or patronizingly, but as human beings who have learnt how to turn our common suffering into hope for the future. </i>—Nelson Mandela</div></blockquote><p> Nelson Mandela lived a long and fruitful life, even if almost three decades of it were spent behind bars for his work to end apartheid. He was deemed a terrorist and a danger to society. Of course, that was because the ruling party didn't want to give up their power over those they held down. And they were facing a huge disparity in numbers, five to one, and they were scared. But as you know, once Mandela was freed, he ended up being elected to be the President of the country and apartheid in South Africa became obsolete. It must have been a very difficult time to live in South Africa. Yesterday I read the entire <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nelson_Mandela">Wikipedia entry</a></b> chronicling the major events of his life. He lived to be 95, and during that long life, he received many accolades, including the Nobel Peace Prize. And he never became bitter or angry, even after all those years locked up behind bars.</p><p></p><blockquote><i>Amid growing domestic and international pressure and fears of racial civil war, President F. W. de Klerk released him in 1990. Mandela and de Klerk led efforts to negotiate an end to apartheid, which resulted in the 1994 multiracial general election in which Mandela led the ANC to victory and became president.</i> (Wikipedia)</blockquote><p> I wonder if someone like Mandela might emerge once again to help heal the conflict going on right now with Israel and Hamas. Although it's unlikely, there is no reason not to hope for such an event to occur. Anything is possible, and with enough motivation, perhaps the apartheid existing in Palestine will one day be relegated to the dustbin of history.</p><p>Well, I certainly took a swerve away from what I was originally going to talk about, which is all the many reasons I have for being grateful during Thanksgiving week. I have never been directly exposed to conflict and displacement myself, but I can well imagine it. Instead, my decisions will revolve more around how to prepare for the big dinner, and whether or not I'll be able to get in some exercise. No Senior Trailblazer hikes on Thursday, it seems.</p><p>This year, I decided to buy the local community food co-op's Thanksgiving feast, all prepared and assembled for me. I don't need to do anything more than pick up the pre-cooked dinner. I'll make some nice side dishes, maybe, just so I can get into the spirit. I'll arrange everything on separate plates, and SG and I will sit down to a stress-free Thanksgiving meal. It's my idea of a perfect Thanksgiving, although I have so many childhood memories of my mother's wonderful spread, including (of course) pumpkin and apple pies. She also made a wonderful turkey hash out of the leftovers, which for me was my favorite part of the holiday. I've tried, but I never was able to duplicate that delicious dish. Mama's magic ingredient was always missing.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbi8QWinhxznqho93eNoO2Lzkk319Uk2ELW8T3GU7aRo-p3GDTMid1_VsqejljoDIlDpxAgRg0mzJrjxUTwETIYXo3_bhJl1GfN87_C-yHFIJQdPQdyimMzNngDfebgRPbh5N0qz3uh_xwkVaoKpW9OjzSEWPEGOlbEmwDFTwvOgLI5QW_28O5yK_vngk/s1280/IMG_6321.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbi8QWinhxznqho93eNoO2Lzkk319Uk2ELW8T3GU7aRo-p3GDTMid1_VsqejljoDIlDpxAgRg0mzJrjxUTwETIYXo3_bhJl1GfN87_C-yHFIJQdPQdyimMzNngDfebgRPbh5N0qz3uh_xwkVaoKpW9OjzSEWPEGOlbEmwDFTwvOgLI5QW_28O5yK_vngk/w300-h400/IMG_6321.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rainy hike five years ago</td></tr></tbody></table><p>In all these years of hiking in the Pacific Northwest (fifteen so far), I've been incredibly fortunate to have so many wonderful places, and wonderful people, to enjoy the outdoors with. It still continues today, although the faces change, the camaraderie and mutual enjoyment of our beautiful environment does not. I will continue on this way for as long as I can, and then when it's finally time to settle into my armchair for good, I will be content. Until then, I wish you, my dear friends, a very happy and fulfilling Thanksgiving. Be well until we meet again.</p><p><br /></p><p></p></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-54187302257214873622023-11-12T06:22:00.000-08:002023-11-12T06:24:16.957-08:00Thanksgiving just around the corner<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlu0SORRkZJON40d9GS1Qh60yDLPTXZrQZcDTOO_-NkAYsVmzm2Y03oSURdIBdA8EJC8gtSzVG0BcNrFguCmJHtLkPxZZDJteDHqiTX7O-uCWPzsxqlg-UbObbgxb0VXp4g64O4oTGHGRPu6y1iFxhX-MzL4LR8C3cmvnRgFg0DbP5A0yulHSdmKfhfog/s1280/IMG_8542.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlu0SORRkZJON40d9GS1Qh60yDLPTXZrQZcDTOO_-NkAYsVmzm2Y03oSURdIBdA8EJC8gtSzVG0BcNrFguCmJHtLkPxZZDJteDHqiTX7O-uCWPzsxqlg-UbObbgxb0VXp4g64O4oTGHGRPu6y1iFxhX-MzL4LR8C3cmvnRgFg0DbP5A0yulHSdmKfhfog/w400-h300/IMG_8542.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cornucopia of veggies</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday I ended up walking by myself from the coffee shop. Steve had company from out of town, Don had a plumbing problem, and John is back in the hospital again. Not because of Covid this time, but he began to feel really woozy and called his son to take him to the hospital, and they admitted him. He was barely able to walk. They discovered that his potassium level, for one thing, was highly elevated. Last week he started taking a different medication for his heart, and the doctors thought perhaps that might have caused his symptoms. He stopped taking it and feels better, but he'll be there for another day or two to be sure he's out of the woods. Plus they will start him on another medication and will monitor his progress closely.</div><div><br /></div><div>He is, you know, elderly. He'll be turning 84 in a couple of months, and I remind you what they say about aging: there is only one way to keep it from happening, and hardly anybody is looking forward to dying. It will eventually catch up to all of us, but I, for one, am in no hurry to take that final journey. Sometimes when I'm relaxing quietly in the dark, waiting for sleep, I take stock of my day's activities and look ahead to tomorrow, realizing that my considerable good health makes me happy to be alive. Although I'm not immune to various aches and pains, I seem to be hanging in there for the moment, and for that I am grateful.</div><div><blockquote><i>Participate joyfully in the sorrows of the world. We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy.</i> —Joseph Campbell</blockquote><p>I am also working hard to stay positive and not overwhelmed with the awful news of the world. I was very pleased last Tuesday to see how well the Democrats did in the off-year elections, although I was disappointed by some of the local Bellingham races. And by the fact that only 44% of eligible voters participated in Whatcom County was discouraging as well. You could hardly make voting much easier than it is here in Washington State: all you need to do is fill in the ballot that was mailed to us and mail it back. You do need to figure out who and what to vote for, but that is not too hard.</p><p>Sorry, I didn't mean to get on my soapbox. It's not what I really want to spend my free time doing. I have stopped watching the news channels in the evening that were once something I wouldn't miss. It seems like it only seems to grow more dire, and there is nothing I can do about it, except distract myself with other activities. And the holidays are right around the corner! Less than two weeks before Thanksgiving, which has already occurred in Canada. This year I once again ordered our Thanksgiving dinners from the local co-op, and on Wednesday I will pick up our dinner rather than fixing it myself. It's a good way to support our local grocery store and not cook. I did it for the first time last year and was quite pleased with the quality and quantity of the Thanksgiving feast.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzAz8go5HUMG4vQTkiqlvkPQ8gHp_Xd9l9XEaohpwiHqHGehSnw8oCvebdeZUBjoMWOSMIAA84JIcs-Jr7qajvyxe2IW5uKw8sLs-cQ8c7_CRwzfjNTRFbFk6y7xjuAML1Ah2W1L4yKsCXY9Rg2nJd4D8eY27eDGcWTHWuIKK-geHg1xhEtBXHhPtYz4/s1280/IMG_8532.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzAz8go5HUMG4vQTkiqlvkPQ8gHp_Xd9l9XEaohpwiHqHGehSnw8oCvebdeZUBjoMWOSMIAA84JIcs-Jr7qajvyxe2IW5uKw8sLs-cQ8c7_CRwzfjNTRFbFk6y7xjuAML1Ah2W1L4yKsCXY9Rg2nJd4D8eY27eDGcWTHWuIKK-geHg1xhEtBXHhPtYz4/w400-h300/IMG_8532.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red leaves</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The beautiful red leaves in the picture above are now fallen, after we had a windstorm that pretty much took the last of the deciduous tree leaves down. But we still have many evergreen trees that never lose their lovely branches, although many bits were strewn across the lawns and streets after the storm. We didn't lose power, so once it was over without much damage, I was feeling quite lucky.</p><p>Just watching what is happening in so much of the world is difficult enough, but it sure feels hard to find joy in the day-to-day life I lead. I am figuring that as the years pass and I get older, I look at the world news knowing that many of the situations that dominate the headlines today will not be resolved before I die. So, it behooves me to find ways to increase my own equanimity and stay positive. There are a few tricks I've found that work for me.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Perform regular aerobic physical activity. </li><li>Dedicate yourself to others. </li><li>Connect with your spiritual side. </li><li>Discover something new. </li><li>Give yourself permission to take a few moments of pleasure, especially when you are feeling low. </li><li>Pay attention to the good. </li><li>Conversely, limit negativity. </li></ul><div>One of the ways that I limit negativity is by watching uplifting shows on TV and turning off the news. That doesn't mean I don't pay attention to what's happening, but you can let yourself get dragged down, which does no good for anybody. Also, I have found that letting myself have a good cry really helps sometimes. I watched Diane <b><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt5302918/">Nyad</a></b> in the recent Netflix movie about her attempts to swim from Cuba to Key West. She tried five times before finally accomplishing it, and she was 64 years old when she did it, in 2013. That movie really gave me a chance to have a good cry, all right.</div><div><br /></div><div>And now it's almost time to get up and begin my unusual Sunday morning. John will be having his own breakfast in the hospital (I don't recommend it) and I will find somewhere else to enjoy a solitary breakfast. My dear partner never eats breakfast until around noon, so I will be partaking of a simple breakfast, maybe at the food co-op, maybe somewhere else that catches my eye. But first is my daily routine of exercises and a few moments of meditation on the breath. And then I can really start my day, reading your blogs and commenting, as well as hopefully solving today's wordle.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, with that, my friends, I am wishing you a wonderful week ahead, and that you will find some joy in your daily life. Until we meet again, I wish you all good things. Be well.</div><p></p></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-8074261407799701342023-11-05T05:09:00.000-08:002023-11-05T05:09:11.442-08:00November is here<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcWTCVvQy1teBnyZTVR6zJo3UKMivt1fZ8ez_8uXJR-TdAyuC-LBxpL-_Aq7iJJYVS-oSb_y7nRR9ILppMmcFguPrnHhsYxaMgKD6Gp5QaipCQHf-r8l6T5u6FcsqowbKOPmPjcH-L66ItZaUb5TujiaDSpYORO6b7Z3lMsr71qqaqM-GuEtRRHPAPGaY/s1280/IMG_5407.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcWTCVvQy1teBnyZTVR6zJo3UKMivt1fZ8ez_8uXJR-TdAyuC-LBxpL-_Aq7iJJYVS-oSb_y7nRR9ILppMmcFguPrnHhsYxaMgKD6Gp5QaipCQHf-r8l6T5u6FcsqowbKOPmPjcH-L66ItZaUb5TujiaDSpYORO6b7Z3lMsr71qqaqM-GuEtRRHPAPGaY/w400-h300/IMG_5407.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boulevard Park walk yesterday (picture by Steve)</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>I love these leaves, big leaf maple that lined the trail as Steve and I walked from the coffee shop to the Taylor Dock before turning around and heading back. He got both the flu and Covid shots on Friday and wasn't feeling a hundred percent. I also wasn't anxious to be outdoors in the wind and rain, as we kept having frequent squalls of rain and bouts of wind, but then it would calm down again. We didn't go far, but it made me feel so much better just to get in a little exercise. These pretty leaves won't look so nice once the rain pounds us, as it's forecast to do.</div><div><br /></div><div>John is back at the coffee shop, too, but he's still recovering from the aftermath of Covid and the treatment he was given. He'll pick me up this morning, however, and we will make our way to Fairhaven for breakfast. It's amazingly warm right now, but that is also expected to change soon. November is famous around here for extremes in weather. When you see that the forecast says to expect "rain with partly sunny skies" you know you need to be ready for anything.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I got my latest massage on Friday, my therapist scheduled the next session for one month from now, and it turns out that will be on my birthday! How did that happen, where did this past year go? It makes me realize that the older I get, the faster the days, months, and seasons seem to rush by. And there are so many fewer ahead of me than behind. But I cannot complain: I've lived a full and event-filled life, with lots of thrills and chills, with good times and bad times, as every one of us who gets to become an octogenarian can attest to. </div><div><br /></div><div>I woke this morning at the usual time, according to my sleep cycle, but the clock says I got up an hour earlier. During the night, the time changed on all our clocks (except for the microwave); our devices and electronics didn't even seem to notice. It will take me a week to get adjusted to the time change, but it gives me an extra hour to write this post, just for today. For whatever reason, I slept well and feel quite serene and happy with life for the moment. The news of the day hasn't been dealt with yet, and I might just keep it that way for awhile. Nothing is making me anxious to find out and spoil my mood. The only thing that changes when I read the news is me.</div><div><br /></div><div>People who are kind and good hearted all feel the same right now, I suspect: wishing there was something that can be could to make things better. My technique is simple and effective, which is to spend some time in following my breath and then making a gratitude list. Who would have thought that paying attention to something we do unconsciously most of the time could be helpful? But it is. We breathe from the moment we are born until we take our last breath when we die. Most of the time we are completely unaware of that essential element in life, and paying attention to it is rather calming. It also makes me aware of those times when I have difficulty concentrating, but bringing my mind back to my breath without judgment is also a gentle way to train my "monkey mind," the ever-present mental processes, into serenity.</div><div><div></div></div><blockquote><div><div><i>Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens. </i>—Khalil Gibran</div></div><div></div></blockquote><div>And then there is gratitude, such a wonderful addition to anybody's life. I am grateful for the ability to think, to contemplate, to move through my days with the ability to grow. Even as an elder, the expansion of one's horizons never really stops, unless you choose to allow it. All around every one of us are myriad possibilities for growth. Today I'm going to see if I can infect others with the benign virus of love. Why not? It seems like just the thing for a windy, rainy November day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, will you look at that? The hour that I gained last night has just been spent in happy contemplation of the day ahead. It's now time to think about getting out of bed and starting my usual activities. My dear partner still sleeps next to me, and I can hear the wind moving through the trees outside my window. John will be here soon, and we will climb inside his chariot and transport ourselves to Fairhaven for breakfast. I do hope you will have a truly wonderful week ahead, with plenty of company in whatever form suits you best. Two-legged, four-legged, winged, wild or domestic, I wish you and your world all good things until we meet again. Be well, dear friends.</div><div><br /></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-43246844937004219492023-10-29T06:26:00.002-07:002023-10-29T06:26:48.802-07:00To everything there is a season<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxnQOsHk9NYbQpF9PtQlN9Vr4EUBMqc5MOG7OmrsXZj6ngw9_2n-GYrvJvfQKZhNuRHJJ95bI1inuEArrHP6ckDfngwy95tlh98KLoJvxwKymqM9m1DjaROdCycj6VXM89Cu6qmEsev7hlZvYSDlxei90ODIS1cIdI8lVzDzdw_bg9Jmk9JHRFSV_loG4/s1280/image000000.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxnQOsHk9NYbQpF9PtQlN9Vr4EUBMqc5MOG7OmrsXZj6ngw9_2n-GYrvJvfQKZhNuRHJJ95bI1inuEArrHP6ckDfngwy95tlh98KLoJvxwKymqM9m1DjaROdCycj6VXM89Cu6qmEsev7hlZvYSDlxei90ODIS1cIdI8lVzDzdw_bg9Jmk9JHRFSV_loG4/w400-h300/image000000.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freezing temps at Bellingham Bay</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes I worry just a little bit about how easily I have adjusted to the cold wintery temperatures we've got going on right now. (Good clothing helps.) Friend Don took this picture on our Squalicum Harbor walk yesterday. Do I look cold? I should, since the temperature fell to 2.5°C (37°F) overnight, and these blasts of cold air should continue until late next week when, in fact, the nighttime temperature will be higher than we are reaching during the daytime hours at present. Our apartment owners have weatherproofed all that they can, for now.</div><div><br /></div><div>We walked for about four+ miles, and our conversation meandered all over the place, except we stayed away from the state of the world and all its permutations. Instead, we talked about our own lives and past events, like how we ended up in Bellingham. He and his wife moved here from Idaho, and they are both much happier here, preferring the weather as well as the political climate. He is a retired middle school teacher, and his wife is an artist who has found a thriving community in which she can grow. Don has begun taking one or two hikes a week with the Senior Trailblazers, which is how we know each other. These new friends I am making are partly because of the huge hole in my life that opened up when Melanie moved away, but it's filling up with new friends, much to my relief. I check out Mel's adventures she posts on Facebook, but otherwise I stay away, remembering what a time sink Facebook once was for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>John is still recovering from his bout with Covid. He takes a blood thinner, which meant he couldn't take Paxlovid, but his doctor prescribed another antiviral medication, which he just finished taking. I talked to him yesterday, and he was not feeling very much better, but maybe now that he's finished that medication, he'll start to feel like his old self again. I've missed him, but I'm glad I didn't catch it. In another week or so, I should be protected from the flu as well by the vaccine I received last week. That of course doesn't mean I can't get it, but if I do it should be less severe than without the vaccine. There is so much stuff going around right now, and it's not even November. But we'll muddle through, and before you know it, we'll be seeing signs of spring popping up. We do have the rest of fall and most of winter to navigate before then, however. Counting one's chickens, well you know what they say about that! It does seem a bit premature to think of spring before we've even begun the winter months.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBFT0DKdCCPP9aHCYoToJCgbJlaK9qtdnsRSSslI06tRfd1oLLMygu8-rhZTyTV4CXqnRWwAHZyWQkylO6HsHCkNrmkR1EV5qPRCiXaiPZCV8TiJpkenNzl_d5Lzj0vG7WBLFvoPCZJWwGAXWs1l79EQqW9d0l0oMBstXhNCH5tGhrfo2j5QfaCAPu7zc/s1280/IMG_8444.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBFT0DKdCCPP9aHCYoToJCgbJlaK9qtdnsRSSslI06tRfd1oLLMygu8-rhZTyTV4CXqnRWwAHZyWQkylO6HsHCkNrmkR1EV5qPRCiXaiPZCV8TiJpkenNzl_d5Lzj0vG7WBLFvoPCZJWwGAXWs1l79EQqW9d0l0oMBstXhNCH5tGhrfo2j5QfaCAPu7zc/w400-h300/IMG_8444.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Such a pretty sight</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>One of the best parts of fall, for me, is seeing the colorful leaves everywhere, both on the trees and on the ground, as we walk through the beautiful Pacific Northwest scenery. Of course, the evergreens don't shed their leaves, but instead little needles fall off that break down pretty quickly, but make for good nutrients to feed next year's new growth. And once the rain returns, it also breaks down the leaves into mulch and this pretty scene turns into soft brown gunk. Nutritious for the plants, perhaps, but the beauty of the scene lasts only a short time. I enjoy it while I can.</div><div><br /></div><div>This morning, another without a trip to breakfast with John, allows me the luxury of lounging in bed until I want to get up. It means that after I finish this post, I'll be able to make another cup of tea if I want, before deciding where I might rustle up a good cup of coffee. I did peruse the espresso machines for purchase on Amazon, thinking maybe I should just get one for myself, but then I realized that, given the option, I prefer to have coffee socially with friends, instead of solitarily. I guess that is one place my extroversion asserts itself.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have felt hampered in my ability to watch the news on TV, since it seems to be unremittingly bleak. So many terrible events are happening every day, which never seemed so imminent and ceaseless as they do today. It's telling that I have come to prefer the commercials to the actual news shows. And the thing is, I know there are still plenty of good and positive things happening worldwide, but they are not newsworthy, I guess. So instead of watching the news, I spend a good bit of time looking for uplifting programs that bring me joy. I have rewatched a couple of series that I enjoyed in the past, like <b><a href="https://www.netflix.com/title/80234304">The Queen's Gambit</a></b> on Netflix. Although I enjoyed it a few years ago, it was even more enjoyable the second time around, since I knew what was going to happen and could concentrate on the story and the incredible acting. In fact, it was so enjoyable that I watched the last episode again (there are seven hour-long episodes).</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't want to be one of those people who sticks her head in the sand about what's happening in the world, but wouldn't it be possible to include some of the really positive events too? This year, a wonderful thing happened:</div><div><blockquote><i>The James Webb Telescope, the largest space telescope ever built, reached its destination in orbit around the sun in January, following decades of planning and a million-mile journey from Earth. Since then, the $10 billion observatory has captured mesmerizing images of a planet outside our solar system, nebulae where stars are born, and distant galaxies.</i></blockquote></div><div>Every morning, I look at the <b><a href="https://apod.nasa.gov/apod/astropix.html">Astronomy Picture of the Day</a></b>, which always helps me to put the world's problems into perspective. When the picture is of a distant galaxy millions of light-years away, and the commentary deems it to be in "the neighborhood," it does make me realize that our problems diminish in importance the farther away from them we get. Perspective is everything.</div><div><div><blockquote><i>It is not easy to see how the more extreme forms of nationalism can long survive when men have seen the Earth in its true perspective as a single small globe against the stars.</i> —Arthur C. Clarke</blockquote></div></div><div>To that, I say YES and let's have more positivity and gratitude in our lives. I am so grateful for this opportunity I have, every week, to share these thoughts with you, my dear readers. It's also possible to concentrate on the happiness I can find in my simple little world, and from there I can take a leap out into the vast universe of loving kindness and joy. Please, dear friends, be well and content until we meet again next week. I wish you all good things.</div><div><br /></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-7753171476209897042023-10-22T06:14:00.001-07:002023-10-22T06:14:39.683-07:00Golden days<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iyrvXt_qwfKo6eONWV6ylO0JaV9RkOwhjxWPIHacm2FJH_sLdIudYEK3qQRPYUF-5B5paeQ2TvkSLIkJvufeQtvIkzSHePTbJlqyhfUrQxx5ASi8TlcPfMwr5qRgAvdI7nfD2ZPfzEXgODRT6B_-u-jEuBqhY3Gd0fqqHr7qE337yuXxUxeZt90zQ08/s1280/IMG_8446.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iyrvXt_qwfKo6eONWV6ylO0JaV9RkOwhjxWPIHacm2FJH_sLdIudYEK3qQRPYUF-5B5paeQ2TvkSLIkJvufeQtvIkzSHePTbJlqyhfUrQxx5ASi8TlcPfMwr5qRgAvdI7nfD2ZPfzEXgODRT6B_-u-jEuBqhY3Gd0fqqHr7qE337yuXxUxeZt90zQ08/w400-h300/IMG_8446.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Friend Don and me</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday started out a bit on the weird side, as I got to the coffee shop before John. Friend Steve was already there, working on some tests he gave earlier this week in his chemistry class. Frankly, when I see the amount of work he puts in to teach this class, I just hope he is being adequately compensated. I don't ask since it's none of my business, but I do wonder.</div><div><br /></div><div>I met Don on one of the Senior Trailblazer Tuesday outings awhile ago, and he joins us on Saturday mornings at the coffee shop to walk with Steve and me on occasion. Steve had other plans for the morning, so it was just Don and me who set out together. It was misty and overcast for the entire six-mile walk, but it didn't rain and the wind was also quite mild. So, it turned out to be very nice.</div><div><br /></div><div>John never did show up at the coffee shop, but he finally called to say he had overslept and wasn't feeling well. He thought he should probably stay away from others until he figures out whether he's coming down with something or not. But it certainly felt weird when he didn't come. I guess I'm on edge with all that is going on in the world, and I felt that anything out of the ordinary was enough to cause me additional anxiety. Late last night, he called to tell me he definitely has Covid and will isolate until he tests negative. So no breakfast together this morning.</div><div><br /></div><div>That said, once Don and I began our walk, it was a really lovely time to be out among the golden leaves of fall in the Pacific Northwest. A passerby took that picture of Don and me on the boardwalk at Boulevard Park. After the wonderful golden walk, we went to the Farmers' Market where Don treated me to a delicious marionberry scone. From there it was a short walk back to our cars, and I headed home to have a proper lunch and warm up. My spirits rose as I moved through the myriad golden leaves and gentle pathway along Bellingham Bay. There is nowhere else on earth I would rather be than right here, right now.</div><div><div><blockquote><i>A human being would certainly not grow to be seventy or eighty years old if this longevity had no meaning for the species. The afternoon of human life must also have a significance of its own and cannot be merely a pitiful appendage to life's morning.</i> —Carl Jung</blockquote></div><div>There must be something I'm still intended to accomplish here on earth if I am still going strong as my eighty-first birthday approaches. What might qualify? Although it gives me pleasure to write these posts, and to read those written by my fellow bloggers around the world, it seems that I might be missing something about writing. Since I'm not getting any younger, it behooves me to explore that question with true resolve. Plus, the older one gets, the more one's options begin to diminish. That's perfectly normal, and probably one of the reasons that most people my age are not looking for direction. I've had my career, I've accomplished all the employment that I'm ever likely to have, and through my retirement annuities and Social Security, I've got enough income to maintain a modest lifestyle. It's the life of the mind that attracts me. And yes, I still have one of those.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>In some cultures, the aged are respected and revered. But in our current situation here in America, that is not the case. Once you turn eighty, you are considered feeble and irrelevant. That might certainly be true of a percentage of elders, but so are many who are in their sixties and still active. And there are people a generation older than me who are still mentally sharp and maintain their mental acuity. There's no template that can measure what one might accomplish if given the chance, or given the desire to forge new pathways in one's consciousness. </div><div><br /></div><div>There are a few ways to consider my final years. I could keep on going in the direction I'm headed, riding the bus daily and walking with the Trailblazers, spending time reading and writing until infirmity forces me to stop. That's one, or how about deciding to volunteer at the Senior Center on a regular basis? That appeals to me because we have such a good one here in Bellingham, and I meet so many interesting people there. You can check out the activities it offers on their website <b><a href="https://whatcomcoa.org/bellingham-senior-activity-center/">here</a></b>. </div><div><br /></div><div>Or maybe I should just wait and see what each day brings to me. When I think about where I was a year ago, much has changed and evolved in my daily life. I now spend some time each month hanging out with my friend Lily and (who would have guessed) bowling. I walk on Saturdays with my friends Steve and Don, and have joined a more moderate hiking group. All of that is much different than last year, when my activity revolved around my friend Melanie, who decided to move to Oregon.</div><div><br /></div><div>One really positive thing about keeping this blog is being able to look back and see what I was doing a year ago, or even a decade ago. I volunteered for more than five years with a group that helps people make choices about their End of Life wishes and got certified as a facilitator and notary public. I enjoyed that work, but the group lost its funding and after several years, I decided to move on.</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, the huge effort I spent during the quarter-century of skydiving will never actually leave me, although it still amazes me that I have so little interest in the sport today. In the early nineties, every waking moment that I wasn't at work was spent thinking about when and where I would be skydiving next. I traveled a lot as I went to "boogies," where skydivers from all over the world would gather to jump out of novel aircraft and make big formations as well. But times change, and interests morph from one form to the next. It's natural. Perhaps it's also natural that I simply settle into my routine and let it gradually move into the next phase of life, without any need to direct it.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are definitely guidelines that have appeared in my life, and I think if I adhere to them, all will be well. Spending as much time as possible every day in a state of loving kindness is essential. Also a few moments every day in meditation, and keeping myself active all help to ground me in the present moment. Plus spending some time every day interacting with my life partner, making sure we are connected and happy with our life together. We are, thankfully.</div><div><br /></div><div>And yes, there is my extended family and friends, my digital family whom I visit every day through your posts and comments on mine. You feel as solid and permanent in my daily life as any other part. I worry about you, and celebrate your accomplishments, and love to feel your presence as I go about my day. Please keep yourselves safe and keep on blogging, dear friends. You have many admirers who look forward to finding out how you are doing today. Until we meet again next week, dear ones, I hope you can find yourself surrounded with love and joy. Be well.</div><div><br /></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-37666286889348916492023-10-15T05:59:00.000-07:002023-10-15T05:59:21.487-07:00Signs and portents<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtq-ZHgNkYLeJPmAq6YYxvRBjwn9TTzRGzCgU1nAPBmo7rIbxfPo5N-rPMJW87X_MfkGP9pczrnxm9989iEbeVfYFKl8Fohc7CQbLp3HSevN_cG8CS-QOKBBvVo0ZDKEeM_ofNArfVTmY_JDqg2HXz50256R_Snvd-LNvrBBscuu3cccjvRpaV1wEKnlg/s1280/IMG_8439.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtq-ZHgNkYLeJPmAq6YYxvRBjwn9TTzRGzCgU1nAPBmo7rIbxfPo5N-rPMJW87X_MfkGP9pczrnxm9989iEbeVfYFKl8Fohc7CQbLp3HSevN_cG8CS-QOKBBvVo0ZDKEeM_ofNArfVTmY_JDqg2HXz50256R_Snvd-LNvrBBscuu3cccjvRpaV1wEKnlg/w400-h300/IMG_8439.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crescent shadows</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div><div>On our Saturday walk, we saw these crescent-shaped shadows, caused by the annual solar eclipse of the sun that created them, as the moon crossed in front of the sun. There were nearby cities that saw the entire "Ring of Fire," but here we were only able to see a partial eclipse. <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/1499312190298425/user/720444453">Tom Warner Jr,</a></b> who put a series of wonderful shots on his Facebook page, captured the picture below.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS9NbIo8XG8Cge0bANeKl-0h70UsJovUwtNLgEP3n0r0zJniI3-z23Nn0-Aq-fAFnxtW0P8-SwRlu3rbOG8X24xoEAFRFPQSj1IK_4kbpa_twL0B0aG4yDssIY3tX8TFoCoPxMrEm0Szoa2BwWS8iwEK3FhEzQFfkeu6se9nIaqBdrZOACLXEatCRcvZ0/s1280/Screenshot%202023-10-14%20at%202.00.45%20PM.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="832" data-original-width="1280" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS9NbIo8XG8Cge0bANeKl-0h70UsJovUwtNLgEP3n0r0zJniI3-z23Nn0-Aq-fAFnxtW0P8-SwRlu3rbOG8X24xoEAFRFPQSj1IK_4kbpa_twL0B0aG4yDssIY3tX8TFoCoPxMrEm0Szoa2BwWS8iwEK3FhEzQFfkeu6se9nIaqBdrZOACLXEatCRcvZ0/w400-h260/Screenshot%202023-10-14%20at%202.00.45%20PM.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/1499312190298425/user/720444453">Tom Warner Jr</a></b> Facebook page</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>Tom is a magnificent photographer and has many amazing shots that you can enjoy, if you can access his page from this link. In any event, it was fun to be out and walking with a couple of good friends as the eclipse unfolded. We walked to the Squalicum Harbor and saw lots of people who had set up telescopes and had myriad ways to view the eclipse. They were also more than willing to share. We feared it would be cloudy and/or rainy here, but the clouds parted, seemingly just for the viewing, because they came back after it was over.</div><div><br /></div><div>What does the phrase "signs and portents" mean, anyway? I gave this post that title because it came to me as we watched the eclipse shadows, and because of all that is happening worldwide. It seems to imply that change is coming.</div><div><i></i><blockquote><i>An omen (also called portent) is a phenomenon that is believed to foretell the future, often signifying the advent of change. It was commonly believed in ancient times, and still believed by some today, that omens bring divine messages from the gods. </i></blockquote><p>The quote is from Wikipedia. And, as many of us are feeling, major change seems to be upon us. The events in Israel and Gaza, in Ukraine, as well as three large earthquakes in Afghanistan, one after another, do feel a little bit like we are being given a "heads up" from the Universe.</p><p> I know I am not alone in having serious problems trying to wrap my head around what is going on in the Middle East. For years I have heard that World War III would start there, and we seem well on our way to some sort of wider conflict. But I cannot go there in my heart and mind, since it does no good for me to dwell on it, and I can only affect my own environment. The only thing I know to do, other than prayer and meditation, is to pay attention to my own spiritual development and take steps to stay grounded in loving kindness. That's not always so easy, but it's a start, just thinking of what I might be able to accomplish by paying attention to what I feed and nourish my body, mind, and spirit with.</p><p></p><blockquote><i>Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.</i> —Friedrich Nietzsche</blockquote><p></p><p>In the practice of yoga, I have learned of the principle of <i>ahimsa</i>, a Sanskrit word that means nonviolence. Gandhi practiced it as his first and foremost principle. In my yoga classes, we<span> were</span> introduced to the concept of ahimsa, and for the month of September (in my new class), we spent a few minutes before each class hearing a short reminder of what ahimsa is. Last night I awoke in the middle of the night (a common phenomenon lately) and the word came to me. Somehow it seemed to calm my mind and allowed me eventually to fall back to sleep, as I thought about it.</p><p>When I woke and began this post, I looked up the meaning, just to be sure I had gotten it right, and I learned that there is a difference between ahimsa and mettā (the Sanskrit word for loving kindness) and realized that if I spend my waking hours concentrating on these two concepts, nonviolence and loving-kindness, there will be much less room in the dark corridors of my mind for worry and sadness. Those of us who are concerned about the state of the world should realize that, not only does it do no good to fall into despair, it only adds to it. I will bring peace and equanimity to the world one soul at a time, starting with my own.</p><p>Of course, I am also not living in a war zone but surrounded by a beautiful green (and right now quite wet) environment, nothing like I see on TV, and for that I am feeling very grateful. If I were Queen of the World, that is where we would all live. But it seems we humans must learn some hard lessons in the present moment. I do remind you, my dear friends, to take care of yourself and your own state of mind, because it truly is the only thing you can control. And, if you're like me, even that is a challenge, but it can be done.</p><p>And with that admonition, I wish you all the very best of weeks ahead, and that you will find peace, joy, and happiness to surround yourself and your loved ones with. You are strong and capable, and I believe if we put our minds together, we can do just about anything. Be well, dear friends, until we meet again.</p><p><br /></p></div>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-82096265333885321432023-10-08T06:16:00.003-07:002023-10-08T06:16:44.171-07:00A little bit of good<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgYOTW15fIhK0oIV8GDphgWUS4qKFJUkZbXw4b9_4juoIJdgJSu8_sjaI2md26SMGA-U73FOFIMulggoJFlLDVgxAjq2PNzPzx4gD4Ut0unRA2gw6U5ZD2m426XdVq4oUhxuiiq8CKTeFB9izfPJYt3vl4_82pVxZHcyMBFzHPhTgi6Jynv7W1ZglfLM/s1280/IMG_5375.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXgYOTW15fIhK0oIV8GDphgWUS4qKFJUkZbXw4b9_4juoIJdgJSu8_sjaI2md26SMGA-U73FOFIMulggoJFlLDVgxAjq2PNzPzx4gD4Ut0unRA2gw6U5ZD2m426XdVq4oUhxuiiq8CKTeFB9izfPJYt3vl4_82pVxZHcyMBFzHPhTgi6Jynv7W1ZglfLM/w400-h300/IMG_5375.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me at Marine Park</td></tr></tbody></table><br />It truly is the most beautiful time of the year in this part of the world, right now and right here in Bellingham. Steve took this picture of me when we were walking yesterday, and you can see how brilliantly the October sun is shining, and how much the leaves have turned. It won't last, and soon the weather will turn to wind and rain, but for now, I am doing my best to make the most of it.</p><p>I woke Saturday morning and heard the news about the awful attacks by Hamas on Israel. That, combined with what is happening in Ukraine, unrelenting attacks on innocent civilians in a war they desperately didn't want, has caused me deep psychic pain. I cannot see a good outcome for all this tragic killing, and the only thing I can do is turn my attention away, for now, and walk in the beauty that surrounds me everywhere. It helps nobody for me to allow myself to be dragged into anger and indignation. What can I do except take care of myself and my loved ones in my own little corner of the world?</p><p></p><blockquote><i>Do your little bit of good where you are; it's those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.</i> —Desmond Tutu</blockquote><p>Yes, that's all I can do, and I will spend my time writing this posting looking for those "little bits of good" that are possible from my perch, here in the darkened room with my sweet partner asleep next to me. There are definitely ways to look at the world that don't require my own personal angst to be triggered. But I need to look up from the news and narrow my focus into my own world. That is not only possible, but today it is required.</p><p>On Friday, I had my annual wellness visit with my primary care physician, a lovely woman I got as my PCP last year, after my previous doctor moved back to Canada. I asked her to order some blood tests for me, so I can find out how everything is doing inside my veins and heart. Tomorrow morning, Monday, I'll head to the clinic for the draw. I no longer can walk in first thing when they open, because now you must have an appointment, as well as coming to the realization that I can no longer drive in the dark. Since I need to be fasting, this will be a rather uncomfortable morning for me. But it's necessary, so I figure I can get up and do my exercises and meditation before I leave for an 8:10 appointment across town. So, no coffee shop for me (obviously) and no time to spend with John before my regular yoga class. </p><p>I figure I can stop at the local grocery store that is on the way, after I get my blood drawn and grab a coffee and breakfast before driving to the Senior Center for the class. It sure makes me realize what a creature of habit I am, that such a change will throw my entire morning into flux. But by the time I get to my class, I should be back into my usual routine. I feel very lucky that I still have the ability to drive in familiar surroundings, but my eyesight is not very good anymore. </p><p>It also reminds me that as we age, our faculties begin to break down; it's the normal passage of time and not anything to be alarmed about. My doctor was very pleased to see that my vitals are all good, my blood pressure and weight all the same as last year. And now that I am back doing some hard hikes with my new hiking group, I'm hoping that my good cholesterol will still be high, even maybe a little higher than last year's. But in any event, I am in good physical shape for the moment, and that gives me hopefully another season or two of being out and about. I cannot, however, deny that the person in the picture above is now officially elderly, and that means that high activity can no longer be taken for granted.</p><p>I decided to skip last Thursday's hike because it was more demanding that I was comfortable with. Eight people ended up hiking up to the Church Mountain meadows in the High Country, probably the last for the season (although local hikes will continue). I learned that one person had a really hard time on the return trip and had to be helped and supported by the other hikers, in order to reach the cars. He is 83 and just ran out of steam, and his legs buckled under him. After returning home and recovering, he sent around an email explaining that he is now just fine, but he will not be attempting such hard hikes in the future. I worried that such a situation might happen to me, and I really don't want to put my friends through it, all because of not being willing to acknowledge my limitations. My eighty-first birthday is right around the corner.</p><p>We are all built differently, but one thing that cannot be denied is that the passage of time changes us all. Every day is precious and cannot be taken for granted. Every wonderful walk in the sunshine, every slog through rain and wind as well, are to be enjoyed for the moments they give us, and as we age we must not pine for what was but enjoy and appreciate what is still within our reach. It is a good lesson for me, and I am glad that I didn't have to be rescued. There are times, when I look back, that I needed help on the trail, and my friends were more than willing to help, but who wants to be in that situation? A wake-up call indeed. Maybe my fellow hiker's situation was my own personal wake-up call.</p><p>That said, I had a delightful six-mile walk yesterday with my friend Steve, and I tried out my latest purchase, a new pair of Hoka walking shoes. They are purple! I love the look of them, and you know if you can walk that far in a new pair of shoes without any pain, they are a really good fit. Awhile back I bought another pair, a different brand, but after a few walks in them, I realized that they were trying to break in my feet, rather than the other way around. They will not be given the chance when I've got such good options with these new purple beauties. They are actually kind of lavender, and I catch a little flash of color when I walk in them and glance downwards. </p><p>Today is the last day of such beautiful weather, as we will be returning to rain for the next few days tomorrow afternoon. I'm hoping it holds off until after I've driven to the clinic for my bloodwork, but since it will be light enough outdoors I should be fine. Gone are the days when I felt comfortable driving in the dark and rain, but I can still drive and for that, I am grateful. There will come a time when I will give up that privilege, but not today. I once could run a half-marathon, or jump out of perfectly good airplanes, or ride a bike across the entire country. Not anymore, but gosh do I have a plethora of memories!</p><p>So, having reached this place in my morning's journey when I think about what little bit of good I might have found in here. And there it is: joy and happiness for all that I continue to enjoy and appreciate in my daily life. John will come to pick me up in his chariot in about an hour, and before that happens I need to get dressed and go outside onto the dark front porch and do my exercises, then come inside and sit in meditation and watch my breath. It's now one of my favorite times of the day, and I don't miss it if I can help it.</p><p>And you, my dear virtual family, will soon be reading this and hopefully thinking about how you might find a little bit of good in your day and share it with others, helping to spread that love and healing our planet with our small little contribution. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.</p><p><br /></p><p></p>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-197597102880101691.post-18235201820503736602023-10-01T05:56:00.002-07:002023-10-23T13:39:48.905-07:00Love is in the air<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcXFK6dM88SP3r8VKgnXpXLl6yGVn-t3S0K-RS4EuXS7nfpgY8KESmY7wOZQFvofj-UFi02RYJupNbrBYFSxGmqRCCrCi81QoXuDb3-uJay9Gql2HTpRhYSX_Naed_3KGiS3aNy1fIA12pSHRVY7iSi4xQiYo0iRjtqksB6knoTWdw-40cqlCad_9HuQk/s1280/IMG_3702.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcXFK6dM88SP3r8VKgnXpXLl6yGVn-t3S0K-RS4EuXS7nfpgY8KESmY7wOZQFvofj-UFi02RYJupNbrBYFSxGmqRCCrCi81QoXuDb3-uJay9Gql2HTpRhYSX_Naed_3KGiS3aNy1fIA12pSHRVY7iSi4xQiYo0iRjtqksB6knoTWdw-40cqlCad_9HuQk/w400-h300/IMG_3702.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lily and me on Cordata Parkway</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>It's just one of the prettiest times of the year when the sun is shining, and the trees are lighting up all around the city. I spent most of Friday hanging out with Lily, first in the bowling alley (I got one strike in two games!) and then having some pizza and beer at the <b><a href="https://www.larrabeelagerco.com/">Larrabee Lager Company</a></b>, a new brewery in our town, just across the street from the bowling alley. It was a truly lovely day, and you can see from Lily's selfie how beautiful it was outdoors in the sun.</div><div><br /></div><div>She is one of my favorite people in the world. Born in Guatemala, she came here several years ago, and her English was not very good. I think she might have gotten into a situation she didn't quite intend, but it all turned out just fine. She has held a green card for years and has worked in the same place for many years now, and is well respected. She also has become fluent in English. Recently, she paid off her beautiful car and things are definitely looking up for her. She has a close friend who takes her to many wonderful places, since he likes to eat out and they travel to Canada often. I am so glad to see how well everything is working out for her, and I'm also very glad to still be part of her life.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday, Saturday, I went for a nice walk along the harbor with my friend Steve. It's curious how we met, hanging out in the same coffee shop, sitting in the same spot every morning, and somehow ending up taking long walks together on Saturday mornings. It all started when I was getting ready to walk alone, since Melanie is gone, and he asked if he could join me. It was several months ago, and now it's a tradition for us to take off somewhere in the general vicinity of the coffee shop, walking five or six miles before returning to our cars. As usual, when you walk with someone, you learn new things about each other as you carry on a conversation. His love affair with dogs has taught me so much about different breeds, when I watch him make friends with a dog and knowing how much most of them like to have their backs scratched, for example. He always asks for permission before petting someone's dog. There is a mutual admiration going on between Steve and the dog, obviously. I think he is mostly attracted to dogs that remind him of his own companion of seventeen years, whom he had to put down a few years ago. He is still hurting over that, I can tell. Love tends to have that effect on us, when we lose the object of our affection.</div><div><br /></div><div>Since he lives alone, he feels that it wouldn't be fair to bring a new puppy or even a rescue dog into his life, who he would be leaving alone far too much of the time because of work. Even that shows what a caring person he is. When I am with him, I feel quite privileged to receive his attention, and we spend a lot of time laughing together over silly things. He is a college professor and teaches organic chemistry; the fall semester just started up so he's only at the coffee shop on Fridays and Saturday mornings these days. When we are walking, it seems he knows many of the people we run into, which tells me he's certainly a friend to quite a lot of people who think a great deal of him. I'm glad he adopted me. It makes me miss Melanie less, too.</div><div><br /></div><div>And when I return home after a nice hike or a walk, I usually find my sweet partner at home, and we greet each other with hugs and smiles. He's probably been doing something practical, like changing a light bulb, cooking, or doing the laundry, while I have been out and about, socializing and exercising outdoors. He lights up my life, and I feel incredibly grateful to have him around. He's got a great sense of humor and often has me rolling my eyes at his latest pun. Although like most couples, we sometimes have disagreements, they are small and fall away quickly, since we both love each other very much and cherish our harmony. We fit together quite well. No one could be more surprised at how things have turned out in our life together; we both had many failed attempts before we met each other and married at fifty. That was more than thirty years ago!</div><div><br /></div><div>There are many other people in my life who bring me joy. I feel incredibly lucky to have such a large contingent of virtual family members through my blogging activity (which this post is part of), and I look forward to finding out how others cope, as we move through our days. Love and loss are part of life, and it seems the more we love, the more we grieve when we lose a loved one. But that is an inevitable part of being alive: if we love with all our hearts, we feel keenly the loss of a loved one. Today I feel the past reaching up from the depths and reminding me of those who have gone before. My parents, my sons, so many wonderful friends who still live in my memories of them. Sometimes they visit me during a dream, and I rejoice when that happens. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, love is in the air, and when I feel it surround me, my heart opens to the world, with all its flavors and nuances. I wish there was some way to bring that feeling to everyone. This is the best I can do: write my wish here to bring it to life. Riding the wave of happiness and contentment, which of course doesn't last (nothing does), but for the moment I can share it with you, my dear reader, and hope that you will find some part of it in your day ahead. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.<span></span></div><div><div></div></div><blockquote><div><div><i>Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.</i> —Lao Tzu</div></div><div><br /></div></blockquote><p> </p>DJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07152183871573797791noreply@blogger.com14