In which we buy a car, and it's fraught with pitfalls. The pandemic makes the ordeal even more arduous. In addition, there's shifting priorities as I age, my dear old VW bug, and David Crosby of course.
Aging
Mother Lode and Caregiving
Here's a great book I think you should read. Yes you. Everyone. It's called Mother Lode: Confessions of a Reluctant Caregiver, by Gretchen Staebler. Here's a story about our own experience with caregiving, and why you should read this book.
Measured Steps
I recently joined the flocks of Fitbit aficionados, in hopes of discovering a better me. The learning curve has been steep with its many screens and buttons and parameters and graphs and comparisons. I've been talking to it, this slender bit of plastic, asking about my sleep and movements and habits, muttering to it when it annoys me, and staring at it as I would a new lover, waiting for intimations of love or approval. It hasn't been as forthcoming as I'd hoped.
Inheritance
I inherited my father's brown eyes, bushy eyebrows, and his curly hair. I have his wheezy cough and I hear it when I'm sick, and wonder how he got into my room, though he is long gone.
Remembering
Remembering, forgetting, sleep, no sleep, letting go, understanding, not understanding, the horizon in front of me....
Beauty and Sorrow
the beauty and sorrow of life, hand in hand...
Equinox Part I
Usually my feelings about Fall here in the Pacific Northwest are more mixed; excited about cooler mornings, rain in the garden, digging out warm clothes while mourning the end of languid days, sleeveless shirts, warm skin, and thriving gardens. Instead, I was fighting inevitable change, a losing battle.
Past is Present at Catherine Creek
Basalt cliffs rose up straight up before us, and I imagined the floods advancing and receding repeatedly at the end of the Ice Age, the entire area being underwater, wiping out whatever was here before.
Sleep Don’t Have No Mercy
As problems go, an hour or two of being wide awake in the middle of the night isn't horrible, but...
You’re Older Than You’ve Ever Been (And Now You’re Getting Older)
I go from having a spring in my step to groaning as I rise from my chair, from sprawling happily on the floor with grandchildren, to waking at night in pain. But what if I look at what I CAN do instead of can't?