sixtyfivewhatnow

The good old days!

2012-02-11T10:03:00.000-08:00

Throughout my working life, from the mid sixties to the beginning of the 21st Century, I wished I had a second spouse, sometimes a third one.

No, I don't mean we should have more than one spouse at a time. I actually mean that one spouse is not expected to be everything and everyone to meet our needs. Yet, for women my age, it was a definite expectation.

Of course, I thought, a wife cooks, cleans, drives children to appointments, picks up groceries and dry cleaning, pays the bills, and entertains the husband's boss.

Women my age began to have careers, but didn't change their expectations on how to run a household. At the end of the day, we collapsed in front of television and fell asleep. Oh yes, we told ourselves, we can do this! We only had to learn to be more organized, and better time managers. We began to shop in the frozen food department for quick meals; we picked up wash-and-wear-shirts for ease of ironing, and we gave up polishing the floors in high heels. (There is a famous set of commercials showing housewives mopping in high heels!)

Our husbands were clueless!

No wonder many of us divorced!

I'm glad to see that our children have a realistic view of marriage.
Perhaps their lives will be more satisfying.

Watch your language!

2012-02-09T08:44:00.000-08:00

Bandon Writers, circa 2009, a year after I joined, a year after two of its members died.
Since this picture was taken we lost two additional members who were not pictured here. The entire group here is still writing, some of them also painting, and all of us meeting regularly on Monday mornings, rain or shine, holiday or not.

These folks still meet and discuss word choice, grammatical errors, obscure notations, and the ins and out of writing and publishing, I'm the second person from the right, standing up. The first person on the right is a famous writer, John Wadleigh, a.k.a Oliver Lange, author of Defiance, the plot adapted and rewritten for the movie Reds, starring Patrick Swatzie. He can still look at your work and give you a most chilling evaluation that summarizes what needs to be done to improve the piece. He no longer frequents our little group regularly, but drops in now and then.

Nobody else in this picture is famous YET. Ginney Eatherton is the most prolific, working on her third book, self published, and self promoted. Look for her Looping for Love and No Broken Bones at Amazon.

A group of friends with a single vision can do wonders. We know each other's personal lives and we know each other's genre, peculiarities, strengths and difficulties. We meet outside of Mondays' meetings too, to chat, to share a piece we are working on, to cry on each other's shoulders.

Go out there and find yourself a group.
Don't know of any?
Stop by the local eateries and ask the waitresses.
Check the library for contacts.
Scour the local papers and fliers.
Write a want ad.

Sure, you have on line support, people you have never met but love what you do and encourage you to continue writing. You are satisfied with this arrangement. You get plenty of feedback on these sites too.

But, do you get friendship? Real, touching, knowing what motivates you, what keeps you up at night, what you really want to talk about when you ramble on?

Oregon Old Time Fiddlers

2012-02-05T09:39:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we drove 300 miles over mountains and rivers to hear Oregon Old Time Fiddlers play in Grants Pass, Oregon, at Fruitdale Grange. These events take place often in and around the area of Medford, Grants Pass, and all around Oregon. An excellent crowd sat in at this show, and most people got up and danced whenever possible.

The last picture/video gives you a taste of the actual music.
I don't know about you, but my feet were stomping the entire two hours we were there.

You do notice that these folks are old people; yet, some of them just started to play.
Now, I know what I'm supposed to sound like.
Off to practice I go. Wish me luck and patience!

Learning new tricks.

2012-02-02T11:23:00.000-08:00

Hubby and I have purchased violins, tuning mechanisms, books, cases, and have signed up for fiddle classes. After three lessons, we can safely state that fiddling is great!

A real joy to listen to!
A coordinated effort of ear, memory, hand, arm, fingers, shoulder and foot tamping.

So far, we have learned the following:

1. Tune your instrument every time you play.

2. Keep your instrument in a case, carefully stored in the perfect temperature.

3. If you leave your fiddle in the car overnight, or play it when it is too drafty, the instrument will go out of tune!

4. Forget nails. Keep them trimmed, because if you don't, you can't use your fingers to make notes.

5. Fiddling is more forgiving in style than violin playing.

6. You can join a fiddling group and just keep the rhythm if you don't know the tune.

7. There are many ways to play, to hold the bow, to STYLE!

8. Fiddling has long roots, in Europe, in Appalachia, in camps.

9. Have fiddle, and improvise. That's how new tunes are created.

10. You learn to play mostly by ear; listen and repeat.

Our wonderful teacher is Port Orford's own Diane Cassel, who taught in our school district for years before retiring.
Her daughter, Hanneke Cassel is a famous fiddle player. If you hear her just once, you want to go and learn to play the fiddle!

Countdown.

2012-01-28T09:25:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was my birthday. The day was this good. By noon, it warmed up enough for me to take a good walk around the block, even after a busy morning of Tai-Chi and housecleaning. I started Tai-Chi just a few weeks ago, a way to find my breathing, to meditate, to stretch my body and soul.

I have limited capital left in this life.
How many more losses will I experience before I die?

As I age, after each birthday, I notice that my body betrays me more and more. I can no longer keep the svelte figure I had in my youth. My digestion has changed: it doesn't like ice-cream, pizza, cakes, any indulgences. I used to spend hours cleaning and organizing the house. Now, my strength and flexibility are so unreliable that I barely do an hour of housekeeping before I collapse. (I do housekeeping as an aerobic exercise, pushing and lifting and moving the whole body!). I sleep in spurts. I read and write in spurts too.

I'm only seventy! What will happen when I'm eighty, ninety?
(At our book club, on Thursday, Dot celebrated her 95th birthday! She reads a couple of books a week, belongs to The League of Women's Voters and many other groups active in the community!)

We have access to two canoes for lake rides.
They sit, forlorn.
Brian was the last person to ride the canoe to the Ocean and back.

I need to rustle up a youthful desire and resolve for adventure, a long sojourn somewhere with new sights, sounds, tastes, midnight cruises, mid-morning hikes.
I need to live while I'm alive.

How about you? Do you countdown to doing things differently?
What changes are you looking forward to?

On a limb.

2012-01-22T09:45:00.000-08:00

A covey of doves resides on this barren tree. They come and go, vacating when blackbirds fly overhead, knowing better than to stick around where they might be attacked. They are almost the same size as the blackbirds, but they come and go in a mild way, resting between foraging trips down in the garden, and know precisely what to do when they see blackbirds advance toward them.

So much of life takes place outside our viewfinder, not changed or evolved too much from its original state.

We, on the other hand, are prisoners of our ways, eating to oblivion, sleeping to death stages. We can't see anything without our special rose-colored glasses. Whatever happens out there is not our business until it becomes a nuisance to our eating, sleeping, viewing habits.

Some of us pretend to care. We lay out bird feed, cat feed, dog feed, and occasionally drop in to check the local pantry. Even when we are not busy, we pretend to be. We arrange our days in increments of pleasure and must-dos. Ah, we whine, why can't they invent something that flushes itself, cooks itself, washes itself?

We have invented self-flushing toilets, self flowing faucets, instant hot water dispensers. Even my cat relies on all these things, like her automatic feeders! I fill these contraptions once a week, and automatically, with a paw- up into it, pellets drop in in just the right amount. She uses a cat litter with self-absorption-odor absorption qualities unequaled in history.We have invented so many devices, and machines, and applications to machines, machines that replace machines, that we no longer have to lift ourselves out of bed.

Wait. No. We have machines that lift us out of bed, but then we have to get to the physical therapist to show us how to move our legs, bend our knees, push our uppers and lowers and pretend we do physical work.

My biggest concern during weather problems? That my electricity is gone, and no machine can make my coffee, toast my bread, cook my egg, warm my water, and keep my frozen goods frozen.

We even study these addictions/relationships we have with machines. My husband's job was to analyze how we interact with machines!

I wonder if Darwin had any idea of how strange we have become, dreaming up machines to feed every one of our needs.

From 541-to the White House

2012-01-19T11:05:00.000-08:00

Dear White House,
You asked what makes Port Orford special. You can walk these beaches and marvel at the sights. You'll pinch yourself for finding such beauty as you spot a whale spout in the distance, or a surf rider at the edge of the sand. You won't ever tire of these walks.

Later, you'll stop at our eateries and order fish, or local game. Yes, the food is fresh, the water is fresh, the air is the freshest, and the chefs will surprise you with their magic.

Don't forget to visit our galleries and studios. Award-winning writers, filmmakers, glass artists, potters, painters, musicians, people working with iron, scrimshaw, textile, living secluded lives unless they teach a class or get together to raise funds for the local library or pantry.

We have the bare necessities here, in case you want to spend a week or two to feel totally at peace with natural forces.

As winds howl and bluster, and rivers overflow their banks, we sit at our windows and watch Pacific storms bring rain to the Northwest. All this green around us is the result of all that rain! When people visit in winter, decked with rain gear and sturdy shoes, they will enjoy storm parties with neighbors and visitors alike.

Storms have forged a deep bond among the residents. Lewis and Clark were stumped during their first winter on the Pacific at Cape Disappointment. They voted, including Sacajawea and York in that vote, to spend their winter at Fort Clatsop by Astoria. They needed help from the native population to stay alive.

It is this frontier spirit that has kept the Far West vigorous and strong.

Where we stand.

2012-01-15T10:11:00.000-08:00

You can focus on the space you occupy, or on the rocks out there.

Where you stand, the food you eat, the sights you see, the air you breathe, the clothes on your back, the friends you run around with, the activities you engage in, the shops you frequent, the work you do, the thoughts you have right now, the story you lived, all define you.

Only if you move around, breathe new air, engage in new activities, turn your head, you'll see a different world.

If you want to see the many faces of the world, you can't inhabit just one space.

Folding the map and navigating without help.

2012-01-12T10:40:00.000-08:00

How do you travel? Do you plan ahead, reserve all your lodging, rest breaks, outings?
Or, do you just go?
Hubby and I do both.
But, we have been most amazed and surprised and enchanted when something we had not planned just popped up in front of us and stopped us cold.

Small towns don't have the budget to advertise in advance, to put ads in glossy brochures. They rely on word of mouth, casual acquaintances dropping in on their way to something else, and because they get this wow feeling, they might put the event on their future calendars.

Go on, get in the car and visit places on the way to something else.
The detour will enrich your days.

(This weekend, Port Orford is sponsoring a Wildlife Film Festival. Yes, a whole day of documentaries and short films dedicated to wildlife. Award winning directors and cinematographers will be available for photo ops and to autograph programs. I shall report on this on my next entry,)

The Golden Years.

2012-01-10T10:10:00.000-08:00

What retirement starts as:

1. Many meals eaten out.
2. Trips and outings to interesting places.
3. Looking to pursue hobbies and activities like gardening, reading, etc...
4. Volunteering.
5. Entertaining friends and family.
6. Paying for expensive wine and looking forward to ingesting it .
7. Looking forward to selling your house and travel the world over.
8.
9.
10.

What retirement ends up as:

1. Cooking three times a day, for health reasons, for budget reasons.
2. Outings to doctors' offices, specialists, pharmacies.
3. Napping whenever possible.
4. Pulling yourself away from all the groups you joined.
5. Fretting when you have to rearrange your life to host family and friends.
6. Paying for supplemental health insurance and hoping you live to use it.
7. Struggling to hold on to your house and not miss any payments and lose it completely.
8.
9.
10.

What about you? What did you hope your retirement would be like?

Broken dreams.

2012-01-06T09:24:00.000-08:00

Just one storm caused this trellis to come apart in pieces, and to destroy beautiful rose bushes and fruit trees nearby.

One fall-out of life can destroy your big dream, of owning a home, sending your children to college, retiring. Oh yes, you can predict most of life's problems, buy insurance, and you can then go back to dreaming that you are infallible, ready to mold your destiny with alacrity and dedication, a destiny that is yours alone and nobody can take away from you because you are smart enough, healthy enough, and connected enough to stand up to anything.

But nothing like this had happened before and you didn't anticipate it. One thing falls, and it takes millions of other things in its path. Our connections go deep.

And right now, on this sunny day,(we usually get rainy days) we all want to look away from this scene of broken dreams, we want to forget the past and look ahead to summer.

Right now, we just want to get on to lifting this structure up and go back to the times when the rose bushes were healthy, the fruit trees were strong, the raccoon hadn't destroyed our harvests.
We want good news. And we want someone else to pay for this mess.

The way I look at things: fix your own structure, in your own backyard. If this structure was connected to your neighbors', well then, get together with them, and see how to lean on each other. Both your life and theirs were affected, and will not improve until you give and take. Some of you will have to do more, especially if you could have done something to prevent all this damage in the first place!

It's really a simple problem.

On a bigger scale, if the city had not maintained their poles, and one of them knocked that trellis of mine, by Jove, I'd expect them not just to repair their pole, but fix my trellis too, and be humble about it, apologetic, generous, and put rules and protocols in place, so this would not happen to me, or to anyone else, again.

It's only Fair!

Now, I wonder what we have to do to fix our country's trellis? Did Wall Street cause it to tumble?

A lesson in humility.

2012-01-03T09:10:00.000-08:00

Come in...sit down...I'll fix us some brunch...with these fresh veggies I just rescued.
I'm trying to make it up to you, my blog friend, for erasing your comment a minute ago, for my stupidity, actually. I'm much better in the kitchen, you'll see.

So, have a cup of tea, coffee, juice, while we chat.
My day so far?
Except for the faux pas a minute ago, it was going splendidly. Newkie came up on my bed to wake me at dawn, walked me down the hall to her feed bowl, and from there, the usual stuff, make coffee, pour some yogurt and berries for Hubby, stuff dirty dishes and bowls in the dishwasher, (I know, who washes the dishes until they need them, right?), shower and return to bed to share breakfast in bed with the Man of the House who doesn't have any chores except to drive us places and to suggest meal choices. Today, the sun is shining, temperatures are in the mid forties so far, threatening to get to a warm fifty plus, and walks and gardening forays are all possible.

I know, we are spoiling ourselves rotten.

How about you? What has your day been like so far?

p.s. if this event-erasing comments- had not occurred, you would never know that we have breakfast in bed every morning! Yes, you can now leave an envy note!

Does anyone keep diaries anymore?

2012-01-01T14:36:00.000-08:00

Once upon a golden age, with a fountain pen and a bound book of blank pages I recorded my thoughts on this chair, facing the water, in a place not yet invaded by weeds. I wrote lyrical stories, of a life charmed with blessings, uncoiling the sense of wonder found in this paradise.

But Paradise is based on a delicate balance of forces. Winds and water levels, beavers and the condition of a strong Pacific storm dissipated my faith in this paradise within hours.

During the night, the lake outflow over spilled into the ocean, large waves contaminated the fresh water lake, and soon, within days, the fish began to die, and beavers and fowls moved on.

Paradise's history changed for ever. People who had moved to this town, and this lake for fishing and recreation pulled stakes and left. Restaurants closed. Businesses dried up. Real estate offices shut their doors. Schools consolidated and laid off personnel.

One act of nature had changed the face of this town.

Of course, history books will not connect all these events to that night. They will explain the loss of businesses on the recession; the consolidation of schools on the loss of timber money; the shutting down of real estate offices to the housing bubble. The city had lost its sewer system on such a storm, and to replace it, they tacked a hefty tax on the remaining citizens.

The year and month, Dec. 4 2007. Newspapers noted that a big storm downed the power grid and the highway was closed for a couple of days. Yes, those happened too.

One foot stomping.

2011-12-30T02:45:00.000-08:00

I am posed the same way as my cat, head looking one way, body facing the opposite. I have one foot in and one out of the door, not sure how far to venture out. The holidays and company have worn us out. We are going to need our routine back, our lives back to normal.

Not a chance!
The Normal Train left the station without us.

What's in store for 2012?

We have purchased fiddles and a tuner, and are ready to make music, Hubby and I. We are both taking a class and we'll be getting off our couches every Tuesday evening to join other adults learning to play a new instrument. I'm looking forward to stomp my feet and make merry.

This is a first for me! Our children were playing various instruments since they were little. Hubby was in a marching band in high school. Our daughter has made music her career. I am the only one without any musical knowledge. Why now?

Why not? I have the time; I have the desire, and the opportunity may not be here next year.

How about you? What new endeavors are you pursuing in 2012?

Whatever they are, may they be music to your ears.

Happy New Year!

A sense of place.

2011-12-27T09:54:00.000-08:00

You are looking at Cape Blanco Lighthouse, at the tip of Cape Blanco, the westernmost tip of the contiguous states. We are in the Far West, and the myth about the West lives here still.

Around us are ranches, forests, cranberry bogs, pastures, and tiny towns, of which Port Orford and Langlois are the closest. The land is rugged. Only one highway, US 101 parallels the coast and connects California on the south, to Washington, on the north.

We were the last frontier here in Oregon. The Oregon Trail moved people from the East to the West through many territories. We all have ancestors who came this way and settled here. My husband's family started out in the Carolinas, and made its way west, landing in Utah first before settling in in Willocreek, Montana, and in Oregon and Washington.

My great Uncle Giuseppe arrived in San Francisco as a youth, to make his fortune in California during the gold rush. He settled in Fresno and Los Angeles, where I landed as a seventeen year old from Italy.
We were all drawn to the open land, the sense of adventure and opportunities that the West promised.

Right here and right now, our young people are moving away from their family ranches to seek their fortunes in big cities, East, North, South, to Europe, Asia. They'll join a fishing expedition in Alaska, go raise cattle in Utah, dig for oil in Louisiana. The West offered much, but it is still a wild place, full of natural beauty, but lacking in jobs and opportunities.

Retirees are moving to these small places. They are enchanted by the wild rivers, the spectacular ocean views, and the thundering sound of crushing waves. They are also amazed at how little this place has changed since it was first occupied as Fort Orford, a military outpost to protect ships and lumber workers as they loaded up and moved lumber down the Pacific to Eureka, and San Francisco.

We are still on the frontier, in a sense. We must be prepared to live without electricity for days after a major storm as the highway may be impassable, and no truck or car full of provisions can make deliveries or bring repairmen.

May your days be merry and bright...

2011-12-24T08:48:00.000-08:00

The sun is shining Bright here in the Far West, on Christmas Eve.
Newkie is making Merry, as murmurs of starlings cause her to change positions. It is, otherwise, a quiet morning, destined to be a quiet night too, with an occasional Crab boat's bobbing lights disturbing her rest for a few seconds.

I have all I need in front of me, she says. The crab boat will bring me fresh fish; the people in the house will change my litter box soon after my needs are met.
I'm the pet of the house and they treat me as though I were a Christmas present!

Don't you wish your present was this good?

Merry Christmas!

Trust your instincts.

2011-12-20T10:12:00.000-08:00

I noticed the colors in this living room corner this morning as I sipped on my first cup of espresso. The chair had been moved to make room for the Christmas tree. (in the last picture). Wow, I said, who knew that i could put these colors together, and at my age! (I'm celebrating 70 next month!)

Humbly, I bought this chair with no reservations a month ago. A chair that fits my 5' frame, a burned orange to go with the chocolate brown couch in the next picture.

Yes, the dark couch would have been in character for me, always practical and safe. The green lamp? Another shot in the dark, as the pillows and the red chair in the following picture.

You are looking at another chair for me, a rocker, soft Italian leather and an Irish throw with a splash of green in the pillow.

Is this a new me?
Could be!
I wanted these things all along, for years, but always compromising for the sake of this or that, some random need or aesthetics. Now, I sit on this rich leather and surround myself with soft throws here and there and I'm totally comfortable with my instincts, my taste, my needs.

Did I consult experts? Did I use magazines for inspiration? Did I follow some sale signage?
Not this time.

I walked into stores to find what looked and felt good to me. When I found what I liked, I pulled the trigger. The living room came together, a few pieces at a time, in a matter of weeks.

Now, that Christmas tree decorated with birds? That's my husband's this is it moment! Enjoy.

(If you want to know the details, makers and shops, email me.)
Happy Holidays, wherever you are.

Wishing upon a star, and a moon, and the entire firmament of friends.

2011-12-12T10:19:00.000-08:00

Once, in a wishing, bewitching, spell-blinding season like this, in our very own
castle on a hill, behind ivy thick walls and iron gates that kept evil out and pets and children and wishes close at hand, we thought we lived a great life then, measuring time and love by the empty boxes piled outside on trash days.

In fact, our trash bin was the only thing that told neighbors and thieves that we lived here, behind the gates, the ivy, the heavy curtains.

I recognized my neighbors with a hand wave as I drove by their places, neither of us knowing the name of the other. I only learned their names after an earthquake caused us to borrow flashlights and bread from each other, take turns figuring out how to shut off the gas lines.

Once, after we had just arrived, we invited people from our neighborhood and our work places to a holiday open house. Only one couple showed up.

Soon, we too stopped trying to meet new people. All we had time to do was work, and on the weekend, get everything organized so we could return to work.

Now and then, we'd sneak in a dark movie theater for a couple of hours on a grey day, munch on popcorn, sip on a coke, and escape the numbing routine. For those two hours, whatever was on the screen became our real lives. Friends shared laughter; family got together, issues resolved.

And because of such lives, all punctuated by work and work, we look at this season of wishes as a respite on a great hike. We wish more for ourselves and our families. We wish to hold hands with each other, comfort each other.

This is the season of faithful moments, times when we pause and call on anything and everything that is dear to us, bigger than us, more luminous than us to help us make deep connections.

Happy Holidays, wherever you are. Rejoice.

Sometimes this isn't enough.

2011-12-06T08:02:00.000-08:00

Water, sand, trees, branches, old logs, birds, deer, pebbles,,,,,
These are the things that surround us and keep us focused. When we need something, like milk or bread or underwear, we have to get into the car and drive fifty, sixty, one hundred and fifty miles to find that something. People that are isolated and live with this much beauty do not need much.

Except at Christmas.

Yes, now is the time that stores do what they do so well: they entice you, excite you, whet your appetite for things you didn't know you needed. And they show you the realm of wants all displayed artfully and temptingly. They deserve all the profits they can make at this time of the year. Without them, we would not know what joys money can buy.

I resist temptation with as much fervor as the Pilgrims did. But at Christmas, I can't be logical and practical. At Christmas, we all turn into Santa. We want to surprise, delight and spoil everyone on our list. We even want to reward the salesperson who is too busy and too harried to answer our questions or show us the ins and out of an appliance. It's O.K we think. Poor guy, he has all these people to attend to!

No wonder then that we will bring out our credit card once again, and charge away. After all, even those poor credit cards companies need warmth and joy this season. We're all dreaming the same dream.

Then, we wish a Merry Little Christmas, and a Happy New Year to all.

Gifts for health.

2011-12-02T08:23:00.000-08:00

You can grow your own herbs and natural remedies right at your door, and with a bit of luck, and sunshine, or light from your bulbs this time of the year, you can grow the most beautiful present anyone could possibly receive. Rosemary and thyme can be found in little starts at the nurseries, but for annuals like basil and parsley, you need to start your own seeds. Keep the pot in a warm, sunny or well-lighted place all winter long, and in the spring, you can re-plant outdoors.

Herbal medicine has been around for millenia. I am not trying to sell you any products here, but remind you that what you put in your body sustains you in more ways than you know. Herbs, garlic, onions and ginger all help the digestion, as well as enhance the taste and the smell of food. When I think of my mother, I whip up a plate of spaghetti, redolent with basil and garlic and I'm instantly transported and reliving all my days at the kitchen counter.

In this season of commercialism, I'm planting various herbs, with garlic and chives for my friends. I will label the plant shoots, and add a note with suggestions and recipes for the culinary neophyte.

I guarantee that this is not a gift that will end up in a pile in the back closet.
Be sure you plant one for yourself!

There will be stormy days ahead...

2011-11-24T16:22:00.000-08:00

All your life, you stand around with your friends and you practice, and anticipate your role.
You do your best to lay out the next moment, and the next hour, and the next performance.
You practice the tune and are ready to play your part, at the right moment.

Sometimes, at the time when you need to come in, you choke up, you stop breathing, you get a cough, you freeze. Your friends cover for you, and you're safe for now. But you know, deep down, that this can happen again. You know this and you are ashamed and mortified at what happened, and how you couldn't play when your time came up.

You suffered a crisis of confidence. A crisis of identity too. You thought you had done your best to prepare yourself for this moment. And yet...

If your friends and teachers and parents didn't support you and encouraged you through these crises, you would never play an instrument, give a speech, try out for a part, and face challenges that frighten you. No matter your age, you will find that new challenges will be creeping in from all sides, asking you to keep re-tooling, change your manners, learn new ways.

You can't quit every time something feels uncomfortable.

I just faced a new challenge just this week. My husband had minor surgery and before being sent home the nurse wanted to show me how to apply a wet-to-dry bandaging. I tend to pass out when needles or blood is involved, and told her so. She insisted it was easy to do. Just as she revealed the open wound (yes, an open wound, hence the wet-to-dry instructions) I broke down.

I can't be afraid of a wound that needs bandaging. There will be more of these ahead as we both grow weaker and sicker. Though we know that Hubby needs to face housework and cooking without me, and I need to face handling technical matters and nursing matters without flinching, there is a whole lot of complications and health issues that we may not anticipate at all.

This new stage of our lives is all about facing our darkest fears. Our parents didn't live this long. Now that the health industry has so many new procedures to prolong life and good living, we have new challenges to anticipate too, challenges that might frighten us, break us down if we are not prepared.

As for me, I'm taking a nursing course next semester, needles or not.

Adaptation.

2011-11-18T14:43:00.000-08:00

There is a family of squirrels running these rails all day long, from one tree to another. Newkie is attentive and patient, measuring every movement to maximize her chances of catching one of them. She has been in the Northwest with us for a few months, experiencing Summer, and Autumn, and today, a Pacific storm with waves crushing on the rocks sounding like trains changing tracks kept her from venturing out.

She sat and waited, and noticed birds and squirrels ignoring the sound of the waves. She ventured out for a while until hail and snow flurries sent her back in. Again, she sat by the window and watched and waited.
Patiently.

When she finally saw birds and squirrels on the deck, she asked to be let out again.
The deck was crunchy with hail.
She chose to move around under the chairs and tables before rushing after a squirrel.

I guess if we want something bad enough, we ignore the discomforts afoot.
She'll adapt to the rain, the wind and the heavy noises soon enough.

The unconditional condition of the present.

2011-11-15T08:06:00.000-08:00

(pictured above: The Port Orford Lifeguard Station, now a Heritage building, full of old memorabilia.)

We used to dream about palaces, big houses with many rooms, for all the things we were going to be! Two, three stories tall, with grounds and gardens and pools. We pulled pictures out of magazines and drooled over them. We dreamed hard; we worked hard; we played at what we would become before we became. We lived on two coasts, the Atlantic and the Pacific. We, Hubby and I, supported each other through our early marriage years, putting each other through school, graduate degrees, post-graduate fellowships, taking turns taking care of our babies or making a living. We hobnobbed with Nobel Laureates, sipped imported wines while eating French food served by butlers, and knew what art to buy, and who wrote the latest bestseller.

Both of us were first-generation college graduates. We were self-made and proud of it!
Our money bought us books, good wine, tickets to the theater.

But our ambition was always bigger than our pocketbook.
If we just paid off the car, then...
When we get the next raise we could...
After the braces and the music lessons, we might...

When we linger over those days, we can easily slip into a funk. We have to be kind and supportive to our old selves. We have a lot, we tell ourselves. We did more than we anticipated. We raised beautiful children who grew up to be wonderful adults.

We had real muchness in our lives.

We have always been clear-headed and resourceful. Now, at this time in our lives, we know what needs to be done and no magazine picture or expert opinion is necessary.
Our health will be our dominant motivation.
If we stay focused, our present will be just as exciting and as rich as our past.

In the mood...

2011-11-10T07:49:00.000-08:00

(photo: Atelier de Campagne)

Another 'dream' picture, this one for a sun room/garden room. When I lived in Southern California, sunshine pouring in from everywhere, I knew nothing of long grey days, wet and windy days that would keep us indoors for hours. Now, I need to pretend that the sun will come out soon, and green things can grow anywhere.

Hence, a sun room necessity for the Northwest. Ours is full of outdoor furniture and odds and ends we move around and can't bear to throw away. My project this winter is to clear out and keep just the things that put me in a good mood:

This is what I want:

1. Benches and tables.
2. Pots and vases.
3. Snips of Provence in bistro chairs and distressed wood.
4. Plants: cuttings, seeds, starters, full grown olive and fig trees.
5. Watering cans.
6. Dry bouquets of herbs, roses, lavender, assorted flowers.
7. Naked branches and dried grasses for assembling and displaying with some seasonal flair.
8. Easels and paint and paintbrushes for when the mood strikes me.
9. Catalogues and pictures to inspire the gardener, the painter, the naturalist.
10. And last, but not least, a cozy place to nap on, with the sun on my face.

Before and After.

2011-11-07T08:39:00.000-08:00

The After picture!
After retiring:
Real woods.
Real planks cut out from those trees out there.
Real weeds.
Real birds and assorted animals.

Real weather.

Before Retiring:
Copied picture of a state of desire:
Bird cages nailed on a wall.
Benches made out of polished veneers.
Imitation birds.
Rustic Dream.

These are the changes that we can control.

(My apologies to the designer/photographer of this lovely vignette.)