Last Sunday in August 2023

Mt. Baker from Boundary Way

I have seen this mountain from just about every angle, including from the air as I've flown over it. This one was taken by a friend a week ago, on that hike I didn't take myself. For awhile I really regretted not going, but with the ability to take shorter and easier hikes on Tuesdays with the Happy Wanderers (Group 3), I don't feel nearly the tug of the High Country that I once did. That said, I will still make it up there at least one more time this summer. Fall is my favorite time of the year, and it should be delightful after the heat has settled down somewhat and I might even have to carry a sweater and a raincoat. All four Group 2 hikes in September are in the mountains, and I think I could do them all if I go more slowly, which is what Group 2 does regularly. I'll wait until I see what the weather gods predict; Ptarmigan Ridge is scheduled for the first week in September. I did it successfully with Melanie last fall, so I'm hoping for a repeat this year.

In trying to decide what to write about this morning, I spent some time going back into previous posts I wrote in some long-ago Augusts. Now that I've been writing here for fourteen years, I can go back and see what I did and what was on my mind back then. Often when I think of the future, I imagine what it might be like in five years, so first I went back five years ago to 2018, before the pandemic but after I had given up skydiving in 2015. When I turned 72, I made one more skydive and then sold my gear to a young woman, giving her a good deal and making myself feel better about giving up something that consumed me for more than twenty years.

It turns out that looking back five years ago is not that different from what I am doing these days. I went on lots of Thursday hikes, attended yoga classes two or three times a week, got a regular massage (from the same person I still see today), and spent time in my backyard garden. However, the pandemic took my yoga classes away as the studio shut down and several others in town also couldn't afford to stay open. These days I take a single class on Mondays at the Senior Center, which is not really enough for my taste, but I know what to do and sometimes actually give myself a "class" performing some of my favorite asanas. For me, it's just not the same without the wonderful instruction I received from my teachers, as well as the feeling of being in an environment with others like myself, stretching and reaching for better postures. I can still remember the instruction, though, and use that as a way to keep trying to improve.

I was surprised to learn that I was struggling on those hot August hikes into the High Country even five years ago. Here's an excerpt:

Lately I have been feeling very out of place on these hot summer hikes, falling farther and farther behind the others as I struggle to keep going. With my legs all a-tremble and fighting back nausea, I considered whether it's in everyone's best interest for me to go along. There are easier hikes, and I wonder whether it's just my own ego that keeps me from going on them. I actually almost joined the other group last week, but they were going somewhere that would be just as hot and, as it turned out, they turned around after a couple hikers got sick in the same way I did, mostly from the intense heat and lack of shade. And I did accomplish the hike without any permanent injury to anything other than my self-esteem. (from 2018)

Yikes! The fact that I kept on trying for so long is a little embarrassing, but then again, they were not all like that. I've never done that well in the heat. However, it's five years later and I'm just now taking the hint that maybe I shouldn't subject my eighty-year-old body to such indignities. Since I've discovered the Happy Wanderers, I don't have the same hole in my hiking activities. And I am not the oldest one in the group, either. That makes a difference. Although we are all seniors, there is a real difference between being simply old and being old-old. I'm so fortunate to have mentors to show me the way forward.

And then I went back ten years, before the pandemic and while I was still skydiving. I remembered that even then I had the same massage therapist and attended the classes at the Y religiously. Those classes are long gone, and now the Senior Center has taken its place for many of my activities. I attend a Zumba class occasionally and always take the Monday yoga class. Looking back, though, I was again reminded what the huge part of my life skydiving was, and now it's faded into memories.

My week is always better when I've been able to get in a skydive or two, since it's an activity that I enjoy so much and know that the days are numbered for us to get up in the air. By the end of October, the season has shut down in this part of the world, and September is right around the corner. I saw a maple tree yesterday that has flame-red leaves already. So soon? It seems so quick, the summer season winding down. In October I will travel to Lake Elsinore in California for one last flurry of skydiving for the season, and then I'll decide whether or not I will continue the activity in 2014. You know I probably will, but I'm reaching the time when I need to carefully consider whether it makes sense. (from 2013)

And yes, it did make sense then to continue. I gradually spent less and less time with my "knees in the breeze," but the enjoyment, the feeling of being in freefall will always be with me. I have to consider how much I've enjoyed spending some time on Memory Lane, although I realize how incredibly fortunate I am to continue to have such a full life as a senior. Although I do have my share of aches and pains, I also have so much to be thankful for, and I just reached over to place a hand on my dear partner's shoulder as he sleeps next to me. He stirred a little but then fell back to sleep.

In five years, I'll be eighty-five and wonder how much will have changed in my life by that time. I will continue to write these Sunday morning posts for as long as I can, and the chronicle will continue until something changes to make it impossible. Until then, I will keep on appreciating the fabric of my life, of my days spent being grateful for all that the universe has provided me. Life is change, so who knows what lies ahead? My wonderful virtual family, of which you are a part, will still be there, and I'll continue to celebrate the joys and sorrows of life and living with you.

Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things and that you will find your own joy in the days ahead. See you then!

Wishing for peace and love everywhere

Hikers with Boundary Peaks on the horizon

I didn't go on the hike last Thursday, but Julie (who did) took this lovely picture of the Boundary Way peaks, with a couple hikers in front. I'm not sure who they are, since I wasn't there, but I do recognize the peaks from my own hike there many years ago. While we change and grow a little older every day, the mountains look the same for many millennia. These peaks form the boundary between Canada and the United States on its northern border. I enjoyed hearing about their hike, and I had a shorter one of my own.

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we'll change the world. —Jack Layton

 Yes, let's do that: can we be loving, hopeful and optimistic? I believe we can, if we just set our minds to it. Nothing is gained by wishing things could be different than they are. Realism might be uncomfortable, but it's not useful to sit around and let yourself despair. I admit to having fallen into that state now and then when I look at the world's woes. But I'm going to change that.

It is change, continuing change, inevitable change, that is the dominant factor in society today. No sensible decision can be made any longer without taking into account not only the world as it is, but the world as it will be. —Isaac Asimov

Although there is plenty of vitriol to focus on, there is also plenty of altruism in the hearts of those around us, as well as in ourselves. Love is stronger than hate, and it sure feels better to be in love than to be angry and bitter about life. We do get to choose where we focus our intention. Plus, although it seems impossible to imagine when we're feeling down, this too shall pass. This moment, this sadness, everything that makes us feel bad will change, just like everything else in life. Nothing stays the same. Now that might not help you feel better in the moment, but I have to admit that it does help me. I have a few "happiness tricks" that I deploy when necessary and I'll share them with you.

• Hang Out With Smiling People.
• Be a Smiling Person Yourself.

Who would think that smiling would be able to change one's mood? I was surprised to learn how effective it is. And it's easy to try: just paste a smile on your face and watch how other people react to you as you walk by. Smiles are contagious, much like a virus, but a benevolent one. Grumpiness is also contagious, I've learned, so I try to stay away from grouchy people when I'm feeling down.

• Do Something Nice for Someone Else.
• Volunteer for a Favorite Cause.

I was taken by surprise by how much I enjoyed volunteering at the Senior Center, making lunches in an assembly line for a senior picnic. (We created a thousand!) I was encouraged to do it because of some new hiking friends, who volunteer regularly at the Senior Center, but I had never done it before. It uplifted me in a way I didn't expect, so I'll be doing more of that. Volunteering also got me out of the doldrums and gave me some new and interesting people to interact with. 

There are plenty of other tricks I use to stay positive, but the one that emerges above everything else is practicing gratitude. Making a list of all the things in my life for which I am grateful always helps to bring me joy. And there are so many ways I can be grateful: for the day, for my relative health, for my friends and family, for my ability to write and ruminate about life, and on and on. 

Now this is not to say there aren't many events and situations we find ourselves in that make us sad. It's not a bad thing to be sad about, for instance, what has happened in Maui, but it doesn't help anybody or anything to continue to read constantly about all the misery people are experiencing. There are always bright spots in every tragedy, but of course the news media doesn't tell us about them. I was very encouraged to learn that the big banyan tree is beginning to show signs that it will survive the fire, but I had to sift through lots of bad news to find that positive information. It is absorbing water and beginning to produce sap. The roots of that massive tree are very deep, and it makes sense that it will survive, even if it's not going to be the same tree we know and love. Change is inevitable.

I am also struggling to come to grips with my diminishing eyesight. There are days when I forget how much AMD (age-related macular degeneration) has taken from my life, but I can still function much like I always have, although the world looks very different. I am fortunate that I still have my central vision, but it's much different than it once was. I can no longer go down steps without a railing, because my depth perception is impaired. And there are large sections of vision that are just no longer there. Fortunately, the vision in each eye compensates somewhat for the other. I wish I could describe what it's like, but I am not very good at it, even though I try. I will be attending a Senior Center monthly meeting for people with low vision, and I expect I'll learn how others are managing their own AMD. I'll tell you about it once I have attended the meeting next week.

Someday soon I'll stop driving and rely on the bus system and special transit to get around, but for now I can still drive short distances that are familiar to me. I never drive at night or even when it's dark and rainy, but when it's sunny and bright outside, I can see well enough to be safe. And I can still get around easily!

You may not always have a comfortable life and you will not always be able to solve all of the world's problems at once, but don't ever underestimate the importance you can have. History has shown us that courage can be contagious and hope can take on a life of its own. —Michelle Obama

That's right: courage is also contagious. Going through life will also test each of us, but we can be smiling and hopeful, even through the hardest moments. Prayer and contemplation also help to change my attitude, and writing this Sunday post, which often challenges me to find joy to share with you, it also helps me focus on what's really important: friends, family, and love. They are always there, all I have to do is look for them. 

And yes, it's time for me to enter into the rest of my morning routine. My tea is gone, my dear partner still sleeps next to me, and I am ready to spend the day in love and joy. I do hope, my dear friends, that you will find ways to spread happiness around. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Keeping my head above water

Beloved old favorite, the maidenhair fern

I am quite stunned by what has happened to a place that I always thought of as Paradise: Hawaii. Although I've never been, I know several bloggers who live and make their homes there, and also some friends from the islands who have family there too. It brings me to tears every time I turn on the news and learn about the incredible loss of life in Lahaina. If more than ninety people have died, then the number of nonhuman creatures that have perished must be enormous, too. I looked at pictures of the beautiful 150-year-old banyan tree that is damaged but hopefully will survive, while just about every single house in the town of Lahaina is simply gone.

That tree is just amazing, even now. From an article in the Insider: 

To understand why the banyan is so special to residents, it's important to grasp the scope of the tree. Its 16 trunks stretch over almost an acre. Green leaves and branches reach over 60 feet in the air, offering dappled shade for the park below.

Well, the park is gone, the building that sat in front of it (the old courthouse) is now nothing but a shell. Everywhere you look, only burned-out cars and flattened homes are all you see. For a town that has 12,000 residents (or did), it is heartbreaking to contemplate. How can they rebuild and, if so, how long will it take? I really hope I live long enough to see it rise back up, like a phoenix. And most of all, I hope that some part of the tree will be saved, even if much of it dies, and that it, too, will rise up to give hope to all who mourn their losses.

 The banyan tree is a rather unique tree. Did you know it is a fig tree? I found this information about it:

A banyan, frequently written “banian,” is a type of fig that grows auxiliary trunks from accidental prop roots, enabling the tree to grow endlessly. It sets banyans apart from other trees with a strangling habit that emerges from their seed in a crack. The term “banyan” is frequently used to refer exclusively to Ficus benghalensis, also known as the “Indian banyan,” which is the national tree of India. However, it has also been used systematically to refer to the subgenus Urostigma (housing.com).

The Banyan represents growth, strength, and self-awareness through reflection. meditation, and a quieting of one's mind. It is said that Buddha found enlightenment after sitting under the Banyan tree for seven days. In Hinduism, the leaf of the Banyan tree is said to be the resting place for the god Krishna. So it's a very sacred tree to many people. And now it is a symbol for the people living in Maui for resilience in the face of tragedy. I really hope this symbol of hope survives.

We here in the Pacific Northwest are just getting ready to face several days of hot weather. We have been spared the awful heat that most of the country, indeed most of the Northern Hemisphere, has endured during the past months. Summer isn't fun when you cannot even go for a walk without suffering. But then again, I never found summer to be easy, since I wilt when the temperature gets above 80°F. Yesterday I walked from the coffee shop with my new pal Steve, and we went east on a trail that was mostly new to me. We covered five-and-a-half miles in sunny conditions, but it was still cool. We ended up back at the Farmers' Market, and I had another Shave Ice, a staple of Hawaiian culture. Steve will be going there in a couple of weeks to celebrate his mother's ninetieth birthday. She lives on the eastern side of Maui and has not been affected by the fires.

The last few weeks I have struggled to find something positive to write about on this Sunday post. Strangely, it's been fourteen years that I've been writing, and I've not yet run out of topics, but lately it's been harder to find uplifting things, and I don't think it's just me. The entire world seems on the brink of some major catastrophe, and everywhere I look there are grumpy or anxious faces, not many spontaneous smiles. Nope, this is a particularly tough time we're going through, I think. It certainly helps to stay away from the news, but I want to know what's happening and not pretend everything is fine. I hope this period passes without anything serious happening in my neck of the woods, although that seems selfish. Perhaps the feeling I have is appropriate, and unbridled happiness is not. I am indeed struggling.

When I read my virtual family's posts, it seems I am not alone in this, because several of you have told me of your own difficulties, and I empathize. But I especially feel good when I go for a "walk" through the lovely surroundings that many of you have, and I commiserate when you talk about coping with the heat. We are all in this together, and frankly, it helps to know I am not alone when going through unsettled times. I picture a time in the near future when I will be filled with joy and happiness, just for being alive and still moderately healthy. That means I won't go into my own bodily ills, since the ones I have are pretty mild, compared to what others are going through.

Another Rose Garden beauty

Today I will go for a walk in the neighborhood, and I'll stop to smell the roses once again, because they always bring a smile to my face. I'm usually alone in the Rose Garden, but I welcome all others who decide it's a good idea to stop and smell them, take in their beauty, and share the loveliness. It's a much better thing to do than to sit around and mope. 

Well, dear friends, I fear I haven't done a very good job this morning, but it is what it is. I will enjoy going to breakfast with my friend John, come home and visit with my dear partner (who still sleeps next to me at the moment), and finding the peace that eludes me at the moment but still exists. Some words of wisdom from one who knew that well.

Never bend your head. Always hold it high. Look the world straight in the eye. —Helen Keller

And with that, I will sign off on this sunny and warm Sunday, giving you a virtual hug, and a pat on the back. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things.

 

Remembering when

Midsummer flowers

 It's a different world when you can't sleep. Or worse, when you can't get back to sleep after a trip to the bathroom. This is happening to me more and more often, and I'm beginning to think I am being punished for having been so smug about my ability to sleep well every night. The last few nights I have only slept five hours or so, none of it very restful. Why, I wonder, is this happening to me? My mind is busy and doesn't seem to want to shut down. Perhaps it's partly because I'm not getting my usual amount of exercise, because it's rather hot outside for me to have any extended periods of exertion. I need to remind myself that nothing stays the same, and I should listen to my body instead of grousing about what I don't seem to be able to accomplish today.

Last week I went to the garden store looking for an organic pesticide for the bugs that have begun to appear on some of my front porch flowers. While I was at the store, I stopped to smell the beautiful roses in the entryway, and I just loved their incredible odor, as they had opened and released their perfume into the sunshine. I also learned that many roses, hothouse ones in particular, don't have any smell. I wondered if it was my nose or what the story was. The ones I was smelling are bred for their scent, however, so it was very strong.

Knowing that memory is tricky and smells can trigger recollections of prior events,  it's really interesting to remember how faulty memory can actually be. Some researchers have shown that people don't remember events in the same way as time goes on. Memories are not stored in the brain like photographs or audio recordings of events; memories are recreated when they are accessed. And when we access old memories, they are modified in subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) ways. I know when my sister Norma Jean and I compare memories of our childhood, our recollections of the same time period can be wildly divergent. I used to think it is because we were different people experiencing the same event, but now I know that time has altered my memories, as well as hers.

It also makes me realize that eyewitness testimony in criminal cases is particularly useless. It's put innumerable people in jail for crimes they didn't commit, because the eyewitness was convinced their memory was correct, and it simply wasn't. Thank heavens for DNA evidence, which has cleared many innocent people. But I never considered how altered my own memory of events and people must be. I know that memories of my mother have altered through time, because I was never as fond of her in life as I am now. All the old hurts and resentments are gone, and all I have left are the wonderful memories, and even some hurtful memories are now affectionate recollections. The sting is gone, and the love remains.

I cherish the memories I have of rest of my departed family and friends. Now that I realize that my memories of them are fluid, not fixed, it doesn't make them any less valuable, but after having been recreated within the chambers of my own mind, perhaps I can forget all the old hurts and resentments I've carried around by concentrating on the good parts and letting the rest be gently massaged into oblivion. Why should I haul out old grudges? They don't do anything but upset me.

Perhaps I can do the same thing with memories of shame and embarrassment I sometimes recall. In a way, I feel like I've stumbled on a technique that might give me peace and contentment about the past that I never before considered. If memories are recreated every time I access them, I must also have some control over their effect upon me. When people get to enjoy something together, it's very exciting for both of us. One of the reasons I love my dear partner so much is all those wonderful years we spent together in skydiving, and all the memories we share. Skydiving has given me many enjoyable memories, along with a few moments of discomfort. It's time for me to let all of that go; it's been almost a decade since I last made a skydive, but the memory of freefall still remains fresh. After all, I've accumulated more than three days there, one minute at a time (61 hours in total). And I don't want to forget the good parts.

I can still enjoy the recall of the days when I taught the First Jump Course to those wide-eyed students who clung to every word, knowing that their lives might depend on whether or not they paid attention. Those were the days before everyone's cellphones became practically extensions of one's arm. I don't know what it must be like to be a teacher these days, when people's attention has been hijacked by their phones. Do teachers have a right to tell students to turn them off? (I think they should.) Let's create a world where paying attention is the most important thing we can aspire to, shall we?

A single sunbeam is enough to drive away many shadows. —Francis of Assisi

Also, I like to think that a single positive thought can drive away many disturbing moments that still remain in the corridors of my mind. I can actively rearrange my memories to shine bright sunlight in those places and drive away the shadows. Why not? Bringing love and joy into those forgotten passageways seems like a happy and productive activity for me, with the only problem being that I need to take out a psychic broom and start clearing out the detritus. I'll take the attitude that forgiveness and love can replace all of the bad stuff, and get started with the easy ones and move on from there. Will it work? You'll probably be the first to know what I uncovered. It seems like great fodder for blog posts.

Well, this post has been a little bit all over the place, and that might be because that's the current state of my consciousness. Once I get a good night's sleep, it might all look very different. But right now I'm still a bit sleep deprived. I am getting ready to start creating some new and exciting memories, as I move from my creative mode into reality and spring up out of bed. My dear partner still sleeps quietly next to me, and the day begins with a look forward into a new day. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I hope you have a wonderful time ahead of you. Be well. I wish you all good things.

Pondering the moment

View of Mt. Shuksan

I took this beautiful picture while on a hike in the High Country more than a decade ago. Still today I can visit these places, but it's a lot more effort for my aging body to get there. But it's still there, even if I'm only able to reminisce about those days. I didn't go on last Thursday's hike to Yellow Aster Butte, not because I couldn't have done it, but because I was afraid I would need days or weeks to recover afterwards. As time is passing, so many things I have long taken for granted are changing, some rapidly, and others more slowly. That mountain and the meadow in the foreground are much the same today, I suspect.

We here in the Pacific Northwest have been spared the intense heat that much of the country is experiencing, spreading throughout most of the Northern Hemisphere and  adding to our summer of discontent. I recently read an article that  unequivocally stated that the climate we grew up with is gone. When we moved away from Colorado fifteen years ago, it was partly because, even then, the summers were getting hotter. It's nothing compared to today's incredibly changing climate. And the ocean waters are heating up way past anybody's nightmare scenarios. Take a look at this chart from the Washington Post:

Source: NOAA and Washington Post

My mind at first simply struggled to take in the import of this map, and then after I read the article, I couldn't help it; I burst into tears and took in the fact that it's true: the worst is yet to come, and there's very little that I can do to change it. All those years I sat in meetings at work and listened to the stuffy scientific conversations about mitigation and adaptation to climate change now have so much more imminence.

The more we reduce emissions right now, the easier it will be to adapt to the changes we can no longer avoid. Mitigation actions will take decades to affect rising temperatures, so we must adapt now to the change that is already upon us—and will continue to affect us in the foreseeable future.

That quote is from an article by the World Wildlife Fund. It's all about the difference between climate change mitigation and adaptation. We all need to adapt, those of us who can, that is. The coral around the southern coast of Florida has all died in the last few weeks, as the water temperatures rose to hot-tub level: 101.1°F. That is astounding to me, and more than a little frightening for what it portends. It's only late July and we have all of the summer to get through before things might begin to cool down a little. 

Yesterday I walked with my new hiking companion, Steve, down to the waterfront and all around, making it about five miles; the area has been on my radar since I first started walking there with the Saturday ladies many years ago. Steve is a Bellingham native and pointed out what has changed in recent years, and how he used to listen to concerts in the park where people now sit in lawn chairs or play frisbee with their dogs. It's a very pretty place to hang out when the weather is nice, like it is right now. Again, I am feeling very lucky to be able to live in a place where you might need a light jacket to be comfortable in midsummer, rather than the searing heat that many of the population is currently experiencing. We need to find a way to live with our situations the way they actually are, and not pretend that the change is not happening.

There are many things to be grateful for, even if the  world around us has evolved to become something different than what we might prefer. Life is change, and I must find a way to enjoy it for what it is, since it doesn't do any good to lament my current life and wish it to be like it once was. This is an old person thinking, and I've got decades of experience to look back on, to look to find ways to spread joy and love into the world, rather than to concentrate on all that's wrong around me. Even if climate change brings us pain, we can look beyond the pain to what is good around us. I think I need an attitude adjustment.

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. —Lao Tzu

 After perusing the website brainyquote.com, I found this quote from an ancient sage to help me find a better way to deal with my anxiety. Do you know who Lao Tsu was? He lived in China thousands of years ago, yet here I find many quotes from him are still very relevant today. Lao Tzu's Taoist ethics of “letting things take their own course, yet everything is accomplished” points us toward learning how to correct our subjective state of mind. He wrote the Tao Te Ching and that's when I also learned about the I Ching, which I used as a guide for years, by using stones to cast my fortune and then read what it described as the correct way to approach the current moment. It's been many years since then, and I guess I outgrew it, but it helped me find my way through life when I was a young woman without any strong philosophy of my own. 

And now here I am, living each day as it comes, looking for peace and serenity much as I did when I was young. Reading the news of the day, and looking for a spot here and there of happiness among the moments of existential dread that permeates most of it, I realize, thanks to Lao Tsu, and all I really need to be happy is to change my focus towards goodness and honesty. No matter what else is happening in the world, those two aspects are everywhere, if I look beyond my fear toward the light. 

And with that, dear friends, I realize that it's getting late, and that it's time for me to change my focus from writing this post to the day ahead. My dear partner still sleeps quietly next to me, and my tea is long gone, and John will be here to transport me to our Sunday breakfast spot before I know it. So here goes, I'm gathering my energy to find a way to finish this and get going. I've got my exercises and vitamins waiting for me. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things. Be well.

Living each day as it comes

Me and new friend Steve at Farmers' Market

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On his last legs

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

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

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

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

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

A new era begins

Trailblazers in Church Mountain Meadows

Last Thursday, I was actually thrilled to have made it all the way up to the Church Mountain Meadows with my new hiking companions. There are nine hikers in this selfie, with Karen's head barely peeking out from behind Barb (in the front) and Gertie, the gnome, in Barb's pocket making us nine in total.

I didn't know, really I didn't, if I would be able to make it all the way up the steep trail to our lunch spot, but I did it without any complaint and truly enjoyed myself the entire time. The only problem was when my back began to hurt on the long downhill, but it was easily dealt with. It makes me feel more confident about joining other long hikes in the wilderness with this group. I might be investing in a new backpack that allows me to have a good waist belt. I removed it from my current one, since it didn't help and seemed to make it harder to carry more weight.

Yesterday was my first Saturday walk without Melanie. I was grousing about having to hike alone, when my new friend from the coffee shop, Steve, asked if he could join me. I readily agreed, and we walked five-plus miles from the coffee shop to Fairhaven and back. He's an interesting guy: a real dog lover, who asked everyone we passed with a medium- to large-sized dog if he could pet the dog. Of course everyone said yes, and so he got his dog fix, while we together chatted about our lives. He's a chemistry teacher at the local technical college, and we met by me noticing his constant stream of test papers to grade. He has three classes a week for eight weeks. Sounds horribly intense to me, but he is enjoying it. I am feeling so lucky to have found another kindred spirit to walk with. Hope it continues, but I'm not counting on it. His elderly dog passed a few years back, but now that he's divorced, he thinks it would be hard for a dog to be alone for so long, so he gets his dog fix from other dog owners. If this continues, rest assured, you will get a photo.

Today, three days after our hike, I am still feeling some discomfort in my hip joints, but less than I expected. I'm hoping to find out more about next week's trip before deciding whether I can do it or not. I have some unpleasant memories of going up the first part of the Chain Lakes hike in full sun and melting down. But hopefully I'll learn more before making that decision. I am confident that one way or another, I'll have more good hikes with my new friends. Even if I might have to skip a few here and there during the hot summer months.

I had forgotten how absolutely gorgeous it is in the High Country, and thinking that those days were behind me, I had not allowed myself to really miss the activity. Now my desire to go there has been reawakened, and I'll do whatever I can to keep myself in good hiking shape. Here's another picture of that meadow.

Bear country, but we didn't see any last week

As an old person, I know that every single moment I can spend in the wilderness is worth the struggle to get there. We only travel one direction in life, and that's towards infirmity, but these old knees and joints seem to have some life in them still today. I was the only octogenarian on the hike, and I didn't want to make a fuss, so I kept my discomfort mostly to myself. Now I can tell you about it, and I know you won't judge me too harshly. I guess my daily walks are making a difference in my fitness level; I've got Melanie's influence to thank for that. I am going to miss her presence in my daily life. Thanks to the wonders of the internet, she won't be totally out of reach, at least.

So long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I shall say that life is good. —Helen Keller

Although the temperature here in Bellingham reached 80°F yesterday, it was nothing compared to what many others around the world are experiencing. My family in Texas and Florida are stuck in triple-digit heat, which would mean, if I were there, that I wouldn't feel safe outdoors; even their overnight temperatures are too hot for me. Hoping that this awful heat will break soon and we can enjoy a more normal summer. The sad thing is that our climate is definitely changing, and not for the better. More weather extremes of every sort will become more constant as time goes by. We will need to adapt, but as I've said before, there are some upsides to being old: I won't be around to experience the worst of it. I'm hoping for at least another decade of  active life, but nothing is guaranteed to any of us, ever, so taking stock every Sunday of my many advantages makes sense to me.

As I sit here writing on my fancy new laptop, I can first thank the universe for having allowed me to have enough monthly income to buy such trinkets. I really didn't know what a difference I'd experience with a new laptop, and now I cannot imagine going back to my old one. I've got lots of electronic toys, such as my iWatch, my iPad, this MacBook Air, and of course my iPhone. I guess I've become one of those Apple aficionados, since all of my gadgets are thanks to Steve Jobs. How did I ever function without them? There was a time when I couldn't even imagine the level of connectivity we enjoy today. It causes the world to shrink until I can find out what is happening in every corner of every continent, with just a bit of time browsing the internet. 

Yesterday I ventured out in the heat of the day to buy some more flowers for my front porch garden. It was beginning to look a little sad, with several of my flowers either done blooming, or not being happy with their soil and water, so I spruced them up a bit. Then when I came back inside after being out in the heat, it was so lovely to feel the coolness of our living quarters. We don't have a/c, but most of the time we don't need it; a few well-placed fans and a clever husband who knows how to maximize the airflow helps a lot. We do have all of August to get through, and we will probably have a few days of uncomfortable indoor heat, but drinking lots of liquids and wearing light summer clothes will help a great deal. 

My friend John will pick me up for our usual Sunday morning breakfast, and we'll spend some time together enjoying each other's company. I'll share with him what I learned about Steve, our new coffee shop buddy, as well as find out how he's faring in the summer heat. He's recently installed a/c in his home, so he can be more comfortable. John's health isn't the best, but then again, he's 83, going on 84, and he takes all sorts of medications for his breathing difficulties. But he's doing okay, and I give thanks every day for his presence in my life. Between him and my own dear life partner, I've got a fair amount of masculine energy to deal with and enjoy in my daily life. Friendship and family are both incredibly important for my mental health.

Oh, and I cannot forget the wonderful virtual family that I've garnered over the years, and I do spend a fair amount of time every day reading the blogs of my friends and finding out how you are all doing. The world is much smaller when I can simply click on a link and find out what's happening with my friend in Canberra, or the one in Fresno, or Seattle, or my many Canadian friends. Yes, life is good, and I am feeling very happy to be spending another Sunday morning counting my blessings, and gazing over at my sweet partner sleeping quietly. My tea is gone, it's getting close to time to change venues and starting the rest of my morning routine. 

I sincerely hope that you will enjoy a wonderful week ahead, and that by the time we meet again, you will have had many wonderful experiences and are finding ways to enjoy life in all its richness. Until then, dear friends, I wish you all good things. Be well.