Flattening the curve

Inside a paranoid fridge

I found this image on the internet, looking for something I could use to illustrate the panic I see all around me over the novel coronavirus, which many of us knew little to nothing about just a month ago. How things have changed! But this is not funny, not at all. However, it also does little good to groan and moan about it, to forget that we are all in this together. We need to help each other. A little humor goes a long way.

One of the things I have been very aware of is how different some people treat the same situation: some panic, others deny anything is changing, and others simply retreat to the safety of their own homes and think maybe we can just wait it out. The one thing we as individuals can do is help to flatten the curve. This Washington Post article simulates the different outcomes with different responses to social distancing and isolation. It shows the difference in four different scenarios, and the best outcome is if most of us practice what the article calls "extensive social distancing." That means that everybody is quarantined except for one out of every eight people who are allowed to move about freely.

What is happening in my town right now is that many people are still carrying on their usual activities. That is set to change as the days go by. I went to the Y for my usual workout on Friday, only to find that all the classes have been canceled for an indeterminate period of time, but the facility itself is still open. Well, I thought, I can still get on the exercise bike, and I found that every other station is blocked from use. The social distancing is enforced, not to mention that there were very few people there at all. Stations of Purell hand sanitizer are everywhere, which is great, and the machines are wiped down after every use.

Then I drove to Fairhaven to attend my usual Friday yoga class. We found that as of Monday, tomorrow, the studio will close for the foreseeable future. There were only half the usual number of people in the class and we were asked to thoroughly wash our hands before and after class, as well as sanitize our yoga mats and other equipment. I've learned that the virus does not live for very long on cloth and other soft surfaces, but hard surfaces is another story. The spread of this virus is inevitable, but taking as many precautions as possible is not only recommended, it's the best thing you can do for yourself and your neighbors.

Friday afternoon I went out for a beer and an early dinner with Lily, since I hadn't seen her for a week. She's particularly concerned because she works in a place that manufactures fish into different products, and at the first sign of someone becoming sick, it's possible that the entire place will close down. We went to a local brewery that she likes, and we enjoyed our beer and food at the bar. Very few people were around, and our server said that Friday is usually their biggest crowd, but there were only a half dozen people or so at 4:00pm. We didn't have to work at social distancing, but it was more than a little scary. Lily and I shared a hug, which I suspect might be the last one for awhile, as I've decided to try not to touch anyone except my beloved partner. I'm still not sure what will come of my massages and acupuncture treatments. Each is scheduled for the end of the month, and the way things are moving, I'll bet they will not happen either.

Yesterday morning I went to the coffee shop as usual and had my coffee with John, but afterwards we decided that we will stop meeting there in the mornings. I then met the ladies (and one man) for our usual Saturday morning walk. It was very cold and windy, and not many of us showed up (maybe ten in total). Although I was bundled up from the tip of my head to my toes, I was very cold for the first part of the walk. Instead of walking down to the bay, where the wind would be horrendous, we walked to a couple of local parks and then headed back. Even as cold as I was in the beginning, I was warm and toasty by the end. Some ladies were going to have coffee together, but I decided to skip it.

This means that every part of my social life has now come to a decision point: what is not already closed will soon be, and meeting my friends for coffee has become dangerous. But this is all necessary in order to flatten the curve, and although I don't think I can avoid the virus, I hope it won't happen until I can at least get tested for it and hope I can stay out of the hospital. Although I am relatively healthy, I am also old and realize that almost everything I like to do can be done from home, and I can self-isolate. I've got all the yoga props and hand weights, so I'll do what I can to keep up my fitness until...

I am scared, not just for myself but for all those around me. We must work hard to become part of the solution, not part of the problem. That means being kind to one another and doing what we can to keep from spreading the virus. I have been in denial as to how bad it is going to get, but this morning I saw on TV the horrible crowds and long lines at airports, as people are just wanting to get home to safety. Fortunately I have a warm and safe place to live (not everybody does), and I have the resources to buy food and pay my rent for the foreseeable future.

I think the world should unite and focus on strong health systems to prepare the whole world to prevent epidemics—or if there is an outbreak, to manage it quickly—because viruses don't respect borders, and they don't need visas.—Tedros Adhanom

This is an unprecedented time in the history of the world, and once we get through it (and we will, eventually, most of us anyway) things will be different. Our world is not only feeling much smaller, but the opportunity to reach out to help one another will be present every day. I don't have to rush to get my post done this morning, since I've got nowhere to go, nobody to see. I will get in my car and go search for a place to get coffee, probably at a drive-up stand, because, well, I'm addicted to caffeine.

My partner still sleeps next to me, and I have never felt so fortunate to have such a delightful person to share this time with, someone who takes care of me and makes me laugh. And even if I become totally housebound, I've still got you, my dear readers, to share my life with. I truly hope you will stay safe and virus free. Or, if not that, at least that you will recover quickly. Until we meet again next week, be well, dear friends.

Marching toward spring

Lily and Maria after our walk

Yes, Lily made it back home from Guatemala after her long day of travel on Wednesday. I didn't get a chance to see her myself until our usual Saturday morning walk. Twenty of us showed up, and our lone gentleman, Gordon, has joined us once again. We had a lovely walk in the park before some of us met to enjoy a cup of coffee.

I am relieved that she is home, since travel is becoming more difficult almost by the day. Just this morning I learned that the whole northern part of Italy is in lockdown, and that another cruise ship is in trouble with the coronavirus. It's impossible anywhere around here to buy hand sanitizer or toilet paper; they are sold out, although there are now stations for all patrons to use to keep our hands virus free, with large containers of different hand sanitizers for us. I found one I especially like, with aloe vera in it, but of course I cannot buy any of it to take home.

It's a mystery to me why toilet paper has become such a symbol of the need to stock up. People are going a little bonkers out there, it seems to me. But still, we made sure we have a good supply stocked away. SG always has plenty in our closet, so we will not run out. But I cannot buy hand sanitizer anywhere. I've heard a few people talk about how to make your own, so I looked it up online.

If you can't find 70% rubbing alcohol or hand sanitizer in stores, you can also make your own hand sanitizer by filling your spray bottle two-thirds with any 180-proof booze such as vodka and one-third with water or aloe vera, but make sure you mix well before spraying your hands.

I guess the vodka is because you also cannot find rubbing alcohol anywhere, either. Here in Washington State we are sort of at Ground Zero in the middle of the coronavirus outbreak in the US, but I expect that to change soon, as it's spreading very quickly into other communities.  One place to catch germs that many of us never think about is when handling money. I've decided for the time being not to ride the bus, either. It's getting very scary out there. And I just read that elderly people (which must include me) should stay home to protect themselves. I just can't do that, but I am taking precautions. Nobody is shaking hands any more, but instead using fist or elbow bumps to greet one another.

In any event, it's still important to stay calm and wait it out. If I get sick, people have said that I am relatively healthy and should be fine, but nobody knows. My body has never met a germ it didn't like, and I had hepatitis A many years ago and consider my immune system to be rather weak, so I sure hope I don't have to find out how I'd weather the virus. Stay safe out there, dear friends.

*   *   *

My plans for the day are rather simple: once I finish this post, I'll go through my normal morning routine and head to the coffee shop. There I'll enjoy my usual latte and visit with my friend John. He's doing pretty well himself, after having had a shot to block the testosterone in his body to keep the prostate cancer from spreading. He hasn't had any side effects yet, and maybe he won't. I'm glad he's feeling so well and is spending time doing things he enjoys, such as ballroom dancing and attending music venues. He even recently started going to a gym to walk on the treadmill. Apparently another friend has encouraged him to start getting more exercise, and I'm thrilled he's actually doing it.

After I come home from the coffee shop, I'll probably start working on getting my front porch garden ready for spring. All the pots have dead flowers in them, so I'll clean those out and get some fresh soil and then consider what flowers to plant in them. I really enjoyed last year's petunias and will plant more of them this season; they last a long time and are so cheerful to look at. It's a little chilly this morning, right around freezing, which means I'll probably have to scrape the car before heading out, but I don't mind. I think of it as exercise. 

And of course I need to consider how fortunate I am. Not only do I have a warm and safe place to live, but I also have a dear partner to share my days with. He's so conscientious, always thinking about ways to make my life better. He's a great guy and I sometimes forget what an integral part of my world he is. When I got up to make my tea, I noticed that the one clock that doesn't change automatically with Daylight Saving Time had been reset. And yes, I've got to remember that I missed an hour of sleep last night and will be more tired this evening than usual. But! The sun will set tonight after 7:00pm, which will be a real treat, as the days get longer and longer and we head towards the Vernal Equinox a week from Thursday.

Yes, life is good, even if a bit unsettled, and I need to remind myself to look around at the beautiful world and give thanks for all the positive and wonderful friends in my life. 

A friend is someone who helps you up when you’re down, and if they can’t, they lay down beside you and listen. —Winnie The Pooh

My tea is gone, my partner still sleeps quietly next to me, and my post is written. Please take care of yourselves and be well until we meet again next week, dear friends. I wish you all good things.

Marching into the future

Snowdrops and daffodils

Yesterday was a beautiful day in Bellingham. Instead of walking with the ladies, though, I went for a nice five-mile walk by myself. I simply didn't feel like making the long drive back to the same area I walked on Thursday. But since it was such a nice day, I went along Boulevard Park to Fairhaven, stopped for a stroll inside the bookstore, and then returned back the way I had come. I saw these snowdrops and daffodils almost ready to bloom, reminding me that spring is definitely on the way.

This is my first Sunday post using my new MacBook Air. It is the third one I've owned, and after five years of use, my old one had become slow and unwieldy when trying to download files, and I often had to wait for the spinning ball to disappear. This new one has twice the RAM and a retina display, which I love. It also has the controversial butterfly keyboard, which clacks instead of clicks as I type. Fortunately, the sound doesn't seem to bother SG, who sleeps quietly next to me as I compose. I've already gotten used to it, although the touch is entirely different from other models. And I was given a hefty trade-in discount for my previous laptop, so all is well.

Today is the anniversary of my first marriage in 1961, almost sixty years ago. It was what was called back then a "shotgun marriage," as I was pregnant and forced to marry a man I didn't even like all that much. I say that now, but in reality I realize that the real reason the marriage didn't last more than five years was mostly my own fault. Derald is now gone, along with both of the children we had together, and the only one left from those days is me, now an old woman in the twilight of her life. I have many regrets and have made many mistakes during those years, but somehow I have ended up in a good situation with many people around me whom I love, and who love me back in return. I could not ask for more.

Last Thursday, we hiked to the end of the new Chanterelle trail, which is so lovely, and I am happy to realize I can still hike that far, going up a couple of thousand feet, but I must admit I was really sore on Friday, with my legs protesting as I took my class at the gym. It does help me get over the soreness more quickly by working out, working through the soreness, and yesterday my walk was very pleasant and pain free. Or almost, anyway. When you get to be my age, you don't pay that much attention to every ache and pain. I've learned what to ignore and when to slow down and smell the flowers.

Last month my husband and I changed our phone carrier from Verizon to Consumer Cellular. Other than a couple of glitches getting started, it seems to be working just fine for us, and boy what a difference in price! We will pay a third for a much better plan. I did find out, however, that there are places where I used to have coverage that are now showing "no service." When we stopped for lunch last Thursday, I realized I didn't have a signal, while some of my companions did. One person said, "oh, you've moved to the old people's carrier." Hmmpf! I guess he's right, as old people don't hike around in the wilderness all that much. I had grown familiar with having to put my phone on airplane mode when in the High Country so that it wouldn't keep searching for a nonexistent signal and drain the battery. I guess I'll be doing more of that on hilly hikes around town, too. Otherwise, I'm thrilled to have unlimited text and talk available to me for such a cheap price.

My friend John got his test results back after they gave him a bone scan and a CT scan to see if his aggressive form of prostate cancer had spread, and it has not. Everything came back clear, so they gave him a shot of a hormone that will block testosterone in his body. He doesn't have to go back for six months. The side effects are usually developing hot flashes and fatigue. I found this fact sheet about what he might expect from this therapy. In other words, I think this is all good news, although it's cancer, and it's always difficult to predict how one's body will adapt to treatment. No surgery and a simple shot seems like a good outcome, but we won't know for sure for a few more months.

And my friend Lily will return from Guatemala this coming Tuesday! She has been visiting her mother, who has a form of throat cancer that returned after a twelve-year remission. I know it will be hard for Lily to say goodbye to her, as well as the rest of her family, but I will be very relieved when she gets here. It is becoming very difficult to travel anywhere these days, with the coronavirus spreading, and she only has a green card, which makes me worry about whether she will be detained. Fortunately Central America is still not showing signs of spread. I fear that will all change, as more patients are diagnosed. It's a bit scary to have had the first death from the virus happen right here in Washington state.

I know it was probably not a good idea, but I rented the movie Contagion, made in 2011, that I saw in the theater back then. I remembered that it was about the spread of a similar virus, and I wanted to remind myself how that movie ended. It was a much deadlier virus, with a 20% fatality rate, as compared with this one, which has a 2% (or maybe lower) rate of death. The movie is really good and was an eye opener for me. Watching on TV what has happened in China, and how many people have had their entire lives disrupted for long periods, has caused me to consider what will happen in the next few months. It could be terrible, or not so bad, but I'm a bit on edge over it. I have to remind myself that we have some of the best health care available to us here in the US, especially compared to other countries like China. I am washing my hands more often and more thoroughly than usual.

We know the world is a dangerous place, and we know it's also not possible to protect oneself from all harm. But there are many things we can do to mitigate our risk factors. It is also very important to stay aware of what is happening around us, and to help each other however we can. Living in a community of like-minded people and watching out for each other is more important today than ever. And also it's important to stay positive and send out message of love and caring to one another.

Virtues, like viruses, have their seasons of contagion. When catastrophe strikes, generosity spikes like a fever. Courage spreads in the face of tyranny.—Nancy Gibbs

And with that quote, dear loved ones, I will leave you for today. My dear partner sleeps quietly next to me,  my friend John will join me at the coffee shop for talk and give us the opportunity to share lots of laughs and humor. In other words, life is good and it's well worth looking at the bright side. Until we meet again next week, stay safe and remember to give your loved ones a hug. I wish you all good things.

Sometimes the magic works

Forest in July

I am a bit flummoxed about what I might write about this morning, since last week's Sunday post turned out to be such a big hit. I realize now that I cannot repeat it, and after spending a good long while rummaging through my pictures, wondering what to start this post with, I ran across this one, and it brought back to me all those wonderful hikes in the High Country that I've made with my friends over the years. I could be wrong, but I believe this is the trail to Church Mountain.

When we first moved here in 2008, I never expected to find such a great group of friends, people I've now known over the last dozen years, people who have become kindred spirits as well as fellow hiking partners. Although many who were there in 2008 are no longer hiking, that's to be expected when you are in a group of senior citizens. Fortunately, I am still able to join them on most hikes. There are a few I will probably not do again, ones that challenged me even a decade ago and now don't hold much interest for me. But I can still enjoy most of them, even if they seem harder than they once did. Life goes on.

My friend Lily is still in Guatemala with her ailing mother, and she will return early next month, if all goes well. Getting her back across the border should not be a problem, since she has a green card and a job waiting for her, but you just never know these days. In the back of my mind, there is a little worry that our government will find some reason not to let her back in. And although she has been here long enough to apply for citizenship, it has become prohibitively expensive: you need thousands of dollars that may or may not help. It was not always this hard.

And then there's my friend John. He finished all the tests his doctors ordered to see if his aggressive prostate cancer has spread. He sees his doctor to find out the results on Wednesday, which just happens to be the eve of his eightieth birthday. Some of his friends are gathering on Thursday, and as of now we don't know whether it will be to celebrate good news or not. At least the biopsy was able to catch the disease early, before any symptoms developed. I've got my fingers crossed.

Caring about friends and family is a side effect of loving them so much and hoping for the best. But to be truthful, the older I get, the more we suffer from the debilities of age and infirmity. It's part of life, and the only way to avoid suffering along with them is just not to care so much. That is one coping mechanism that I haven't seemed to master, and I'm not sure I even want to. Distractions are helpful, though; yesterday I curled up in my easy chair with a good book, and when I finished it, I streamed a movie on my laptop. Turning on the TV was a mistake, since there was nothing on but the Nevada caucus and the interminable talking heads. Sigh.

It's really raining outside right now; I can hear the rain drumming on the roof, and the wind blowing as well. We had several fabulous days of full sun and mild temperatures, but that is over for the moment. We expect plenty of rain today. Good thing I've got all the right rain gear for the weather, since I'll be heading out to the coffee shop as usual but will work out indoors, if at all. Sunday is usually my day off from trying to get my 10,000+ steps. I am such a creature of habit, though, if I don't at least walk around for a short bit, I feel like I'm cheating.

See? I told you I am uninspired this morning. There is nothing pressing in my life that I haven't already mentioned, and I don't have any wonderful stories to lift me up out of the moment. This is where I usually open a new tab and go looking for some relevant quote, but I cannot even do that, since I don't seem to have any focus. I even keep changing the title of the post, looking for the right one for the moment.

On that note, Chief Dan George played the part of Old Lodge Skins in Little Big Man, a 1970 film that I have seen a few times and really enjoyed. There is a scene in the movie where Old Lodge Skins decides it's time to die.

Back at the Cheyenne camp, Jack accompanies Old Lodge Skins to a nearby hill, the Indian burial ground, where the old man, dressed in full chief's regalia, has declared "It is a good day to die," and decides to end his life with dignity. He offers his spirit to the Great Spirit, and lies down at his spot at the Indian Burial Ground to wait for death. Instead, it begins to rain. Old Lodge Skins is revealed to still be alive, and says, "Well, sometimes the magic works. Sometimes it doesn't." They return to his lodge to have dinner.

 That is as good as I'm able to do this morning, and it seems a fitting ending for this post. Yes, it's a bit on the lame side, but that's what you get this morning. I'm looking forward to having more to tell you next week, but until then, I always have to take this moment to give thanks for the great life I am able to enjoy right now in this moment, with you along with me on the journey. My dear partner still sleeps next to me, and I hope he will have a wonderful day, as well as you, dear reader. Until next week, I wish you all good things.

Love is in the air

Rose quartz

I've certainly seen a lot of pink like this color around the past week, Valentine's week. Friday was the actual day, but it bled out into the surrounding days with all the beautiful flowers in the stores, the boxes of candy begging you to buy them (which I didn't), the lovely color bringing smiles to my face.

In yoga, our instructor read us a short parable at the beginning of the class. It was about someone walking along a sidewalk and seeing what looked to be a piece of rose quartz. So pretty! She stopped to pick it up and realized that it didn't feel right: it was too light and spongy, and then she realized it was just a piece of styrofoam litter. She dropped it, disgusted that it was not what she thought it was.

Nothing in the piece of detritus had changed, only her perception of it.When she thought it was something of value, she wanted it. But when she realized what it was, she dismissed it. How much our perception of things can change in just the twinkling of an eye. It got me to thinking about how I can change my own situation just by looking at it differently. When I'm getting ready to go outdoors and walk in the rain, I can be happy that I have all the right gear, or I can grouse about the endless precipitation.

It's the same for my physical situation: I can be happy that I am able to walk briskly, no matter the weather, or I can focus on that pesky ankle that hurts if I move it the wrong way. When I look in the mirror, I can see only the wrinkles and grey hair, or I can see a vibrant and healthy old lady. I can transform everything with a smile and a quick attitude adjustment. It helps to have friends and family to laugh with, and share humorous and uplifting stories with each other. Perception is everything.

My friend John is a good lesson for me. Yesterday at the coffee shop, I asked him about his brothers who both had developed prostate cancer and survived. What treatment did they choose, I asked. He doesn't know, he never asked them. Tomorrow John sees the urologist to make some decisions about treatment of his moderately aggressive cancer. Frankly, I cannot get my head around his cavalier approach, but it must be working for him. He isn't worried and doesn't seem very concerned. (I didn't tell him I researched it all and had my opinions about what he should do. Why mess with his perception that everything will be fine?)

Or maybe it's all an act. Perhaps he's really worried and being a typical male, doesn't want to get into it. He knows I care about him and perhaps he's thinking he's protecting me. I am continually amazed at how much he means to me, this coffee shop buddy who has become a dear friend, not just any old acquaintance, but a true friend. When I think of my first impression of him, that he was probably just an old redneck truck driver with nothing much going on upstairs, I feel myself blush with embarrassment at how wrong I was. He hasn't changed, but I have. I feel real affection when I look at him these days. And I'm worried for him.

Yesterday, when I was checking out Facebook, I saw that another friend had posted something from a website called Fractal Enlightenment. It really resonated with me, and so of course I joined up. Here's the wonderful story that she shared:

Kafka (1883–1924), who never married and had no children, was strolling through Steglitz Park in Berlin, when he chanced upon a young girl crying her eyes out because she had lost her favorite doll. She and Kafka looked for the doll without success. Kafka told her to meet him there the next day and they would look again.

The next day, when they still had not found the doll, Kafka gave the girl a letter "written" by the doll that said, “Please do not cry. I have gone on a trip to see the world. I'm going to write to you about my adventures."

Thus began a story that continued to the end of Kafka’s life.

When they would meet, Kafka read aloud his carefully composed letters of adventures and conversations about the beloved doll, which the girl found enchanting. Finally, Kafka read her a letter of the story that brought the doll back to Berlin, and he then gave her a doll he had purchased. “This does not look at all like my doll," she said. Kafka handed her another letter that explained, “My trips, they have changed me." The girl hugged the new doll and took it home with her. A year later, Kafka died.

Many years later, the now grown-up girl found a letter tucked into an unnoticed crevice in the doll. The tiny letter, signed by Kafka, said, “Everything you love is very likely to be lost, but in the end, love will return in a different way."

Here I am on my Sunday morning, with a new subscription to enjoy every day, and a post almost finished. I'm feeling pretty fortunate to have so much love surrounding me, and my dear partner sleeping quietly next to me. I'm sending him lots of love, encircling him with my love and respect. I'm glad to be able to sit in front of my computer every Sunday morning and open up to the universe and let it flow through me. I am also sending love and gratitude your way, too, can you feel it? Until we meet here again next week, I am hoping that you will have a loved-filled wonderful period ahead. Be well until then.

Friends of my heart

Fearsome foursome

This picture was taken (a group selfie) on Christmas Day when the coffee shop was closed. They are some of my dearest friends now, and sometimes I wonder just how it all happened. I've known Gene the longest, him of the Santa beard. He was at the coffee shop when I first went there almost a dozen years ago now. Lily and John I've known for a lesser amount of time, but they are just as precious to me. These are friends of my heart, family in almost every way.

Lily has been going through an exceptionally hard time in her life. She left this week to travel home to Guatemala to be with her mother, who faces an uncertain future. Her mother survived esophageal cancer twelve years ago, and now it's returned after all this time. Her mother doesn't want to go through another bout of treatment. Lily took leave from her job and spent a long day of three separate flights to get there. She should have arrived yesterday, but I haven't heard from her yet.

Gene drove her to the airport in Vancouver, Canada, because the flights are much cheaper from there, versus Seattle, even though she flew on an American carrier. Gene was willing to get up at 4:00am and head across the border to get her to the airport. I offered, but Lily knew I have never been to that airport before, and she worried I might get lost. Better to have Gene do it, since he's very familiar with the area. Gene turned up at the coffee shop before 8:00am, and he said they had no problems crossing the border. I do hope she will have no problem on the return, since she only has a green card and being from Central America these days, there is no guarantee that they will let her back in.

Last week John had a biopsy of his prostate, since his PSA numbers had recently spiked. He told me the doctor called him in the evening to tell him the bad news: he does have prostate cancer. His father died of the disease in his fifties, and both of his younger brothers have developed it. Apparently there are different severities of the cancer, and he has a more aggressive form of it, so he will need some sort of treatment. I was very upset by the news, but he took it in stride. I think I slept more poorly worrying about him than he did! Not that worry ever makes anything better, but some of us can't help it. I'm a world class worrier.

That the birds of worry and care fly over your head, this you cannot change, but that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent. —Chinese Proverb

Yeah, right. I've got nests in my nests. I've struggled with worry, trying to find ways to cope with it, but so far I've been unsuccessful. I think if you let yourself love freely, you care very much about the lives of your friends and family. And as we get older, things happen to each of us that must be dealt with. It's the way life works, and the only way I've found not to worry is not to let myself care and look away from the difficulties they face. But that is a lonely and hard path to follow, I find. It's better just to let the nests build up in my hair. And keep my hair cut short.

What surprises me the most is that these people have become so dear to me, and they were just people hanging out at the coffee shop along with me. Gene brought John there one day, because he knew that John was lonely and needed some companionship. I didn't like John at all when I first met him, because he had the look of a conservative old redneck farmer, and I judged him. I could not have been more wrong in my assessment, and I've learned that looks can be deceiving. John is thoughtful, intellectually curious, and even more of a liberal than I am! And I've been the recipient of his kindness many, many times. I count him as one my favorite people. So I'll worry about him until we get this disease under control.

Lily is the only one of the group who is still in her working years. She is also going through a divorce, which will be finalized when she returns. She has the final court date in early March, and we'll celebrate when it happens. Lily used to live in our apartment complex, but now she's across town from me, so I don't see her as often as I once did, but we get together at least once a week. She goes on the Saturday morning walks with the ladies, and then she and I go out to breakfast afterwards. I already miss her presence and look forward to her eventual return. She's got a lot to deal with right now, so I won't bother her with my worries. I'll just keep them to myself for now.

For the moment (and really, that is all we have), things seem to be going pretty well at home with my dear partner. Yesterday we let go of our Verizon account for our iPhones and went to Consumer Cellular. There are a few glitches, but so far it seems to be working pretty well. I am happy that our phone bill will be reduced significantly, and that our coverage will increase. SG did all the research ahead of time, so we had all the passwords and account numbers to facilitate the process when we went to the store to purchase new SIM cards for our current phones. The tech person did all the work for us, which was really helpful. I didn't even know you could do that without buying new phones. But then again, I'm just not very tech-savvy.

Well, that's what's been on my mind this past week. A rather eventful one, but really not unusual for someone of my advanced years. As I get older, I find myself being more and more grateful for the life we've created for ourselves in our retirement. We have friends who care about us, and as we move through the weeks and months without any major health concerns of our own, I am indeed filled with love and gratitude for all our blessings. The ability to write, read, ponder and share, are all things I take for granted most of the time. It's important to stop and look around, taking stock of my wonderful life, and say THANK YOU to the Powers That Be for it all. Until we meet again next week, I wish you, my dear readers, all good things. Be well.

Revolutions

Trekking across snowfield

This picture was taken four-and-a-half years ago. It's hard for me to realize how many more revolutions around the sun have occurred since we headed back that June day, after having made it to Excelsior Pass. By the time we get back up there, it will be five full revolutions, five years ago.

What has changed during those five years? For one thing, I've gotten older but am still hanging in there with my exercise routine. That day, Linda and Ward were celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary, meaning that this coming June it will be 55 years! (That's Linda at the end of the long line.) I've worn out a few pairs of hiking boots since then, and am considering whether it's time for another pair. Some people think you should replace your boots annually, but I find that about three years of use is about right.

Today is Groundhog Day, meaning that we are halfway between the first official day of winter and the first day of spring. We are gaining three minutes of daylight with each passing day, and after today we will be closer to spring than to the dark days of winter. When I leave the house in the mornings before sunrise, there is now some faint light in the sky, rather than pitch darkness. And we are finally through January, one of the wettest months I remember since moving here twelve years ago. I think today is one of the first days without rain in the forecast; there are puddles everywhere, with the saturated ground unable to absorb any more water.

Since I always try to see all the nominated movies before the Academy Awards ceremony, which this year will be early, next Sunday in fact, I've fallen behind in my movie viewing. Yesterday I rented Rocketman, a musical about the life of Elton John, and still this morning several of the songs are rolling around in my head. "Your Song" just won't let go, and "how wonderful life is while you're in the world" and the tune is still reverberating in my mind as I write this. I didn't realize that song was one of his first big hits, written in 1970, since it seems so relevant today, fifty years later. Anyway, I really enjoyed the movie and think the actor who plays Elton did a great job, although he wasn't nominated. Elton has been sober for 29 years now, which I didn't realize until I saw the remarks at the end of the movie.

There are a few movies that I guess I just won't be able to see before the ceremony, but if there are a few outliers that end up winning, those movies will be brought back to the local theaters. It amazes me that it's already time for the Oscars. In previous years they were held in March, so early February does seem a bit unusual. I will be watching, at least the first part, since I can't stay awake much past 8:00pm these days, and they always run into overtime. The winners are always on the front page of my local news the next morning, so it isn't like I won't know the results almost immediately.

What else has changed in the past five years? Well, we are gearing up for another national election, which sure seemed to roll around fast. Of course, four years isn't all that long a period of time, is it? I guess it depends on how you look at it. When I was a young woman, it seemed to be an interminable length of time, but now it seems like time has been accelerated so much that the march of the seasons is like a revolving door. No sooner do we get to winter than spring is right around the corner. In fact, primroses and daffodils are peeking up through the ground already! It seems way too early, but it really is right on time. It's only my perception that has fallen behind. It's already Groundhog Day.

I like Sundays. They always start the same way, with me getting up to make a cup of tea, open my laptop and begin the process of writing this post. Sometimes it really does seem like a mystery, since I have no idea what might be coming out, and I've begun to realize that it's part of the process of getting from Point A to Point B: just plop those fingers on the keys and starting moving them. When I went to bed last night, I thought I might be writing about the phenomenon of shame, since the movie triggered some old memories that relate to it. But that's not what happened. Instead, I got caught in the revolutions of the seasons, revolving doors, annual awards shows, and more.

And with that, another post has been written. I just looked up the lyrics for that song, and I would like to give you my favorite stanza. Here it is:

And you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind
That I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world

That is how I feel about my blogging community. I am just so happy that we are all sharing this time together, and that you know that my gratitude for your presence in the world is boundless. Until we meet again next week (Oscars Sunday!), I hope you will have a wonderful and fruitful week. Be well until then.