First full day of spring 2023

First growth at Cornwall Rose Garden

I asked John to let me out of his truck last week at the Rose Garden itself, rather than my usual spot on the sidewalk, before starting my walk home from the coffee shop. I was hoping to see some growth on the rose bushes, and sure enough, there were a few leaves that might turn into rosebuds in the near future. This was taken last week, since our brief moments of sunshine and gorgeous weather have turned into drizzle and cloudy skies. 

In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours.—Mark Twain

It's still plenty warm, but it's the nature of the season to be changeable. Unless you're living in California lately: it's been nothing but one atmospheric river of precipitation after another. There is another one, the twelfth in a series, inundating the state at the moment. When will it end? I really feel for those people who have lost everything and have nowhere else to go.

I feel quite fortunate to have chosen this spot for our retirement years. It seems like the weather has been moderate all this past winter, where other places have had extreme events in many different flavors. Here at the moment, it's sprinkling a little, but 12°C (54°F) and quite pleasant to walk around in. Unfortunately, by Thursday it will be rainy for our usual hike, as in all day long. I am trying not to mind too much; my favorite raincoat and hat should keep me pretty dry.

I have reluctantly decided that taking up knitting again is not going to work for me. I'm afraid my eyes just don't like doing such close work, and I'm going to save whatever eyesight I have to keep being able to read books on my Kindle. It took me quite awhile to admit that I am compromised in yet another part of life, but that's the breaks as I am growing older. The good thing is that I am able to be physically active, even if there's not a whole lot of speed or agility in my step, I'm still kicking! I will be grateful for what I have and remember that being an octogenarian is a privilege!

:-)

A bit of this and that

Dripping branches and SUN

Walking home from where John left me off after our coffee shop adventure, I saw that the sun had not only risen, but that the skies were beginning to clear after two more days of record-setting rain. We have had more than twelve inches of rain this month, with more to come tomorrow, the last day of the month. Many roads are once again flooded, with another atmospheric river poised to remind us that the rain is not done with us yet. But today we have a bit of a respite.

As I made my way through Cornwall Park, skipping the Rose Garden, since now there are only rose hips left to admire, I saw that the sunshine caused a light ground fog to emerge over the fields. And now the sky is filled with plenty of clouds, with only a short peek of the sun available now and then. But, according to the forecast, we should be free of any more rain for a few more hours, at least. Yesterday I tried to find a time in the early afternoon to get in a short walk, but the rain kept me to a brief half-hour, and then I was beginning to get grumpy as the rain just kept on coming down.

Fifteen or so years later

My old boss Mickey sent me the picture on the left a couple of days ago, and I decided to compare it to the one taken at Thanksgiving (shared in my last post) just to mark the differences. Nobody lives another 6,000 days without some sign of it, but I was interested in noticing that although my jawline is a little softer, and the creases in my eyelids a bit heavier, there is much just the same. Some people don't change their haircuts very often, and I seem to be one of them. It also helps that the latest picture is a soft focus, making my wrinkles a little less obvious.

What doesn't show in the new me is the amount of change in my eyesight. Before I got cataract surgery, I had to wear glasses all the time. That changed, once I got the new lenses inserted. Now I only need to wear them for distance. I had always been nearsighted and saw no reason to change that. I am so very grateful for my recent Paperwhite (Kindle) purchase, which lets me read for much longer periods before my eyes give out. My old eyes just don't work as well as they once did, and the AMD (age-related macular degeneration) continues to forge ahead. I can still drive during the daylight hours, but that won't be the case once I lose my central focus. I am simply grateful for all I can do these days.

And now I'm going to sweep my front porch, which has lots of leaves and other detritus making it look rather cluttered. Then I will sit back and enjoy the glimpses of sun while we still have some to see.

:-)

Dahlia days

Taken at Farmers' Market Saturday

I love dahlias, even though when they appear, summer is almost over. Fortunately for me, autumn is my favorite season, because there are plenty of days in summertime when I am hampered by the heat. I've got friends who would turn on their home heat when the temperature turns is right for me. That would be right around 64°F (18°C). Often when I'm hiking along with friends, I'll be pulling off layers while others are still shivering. 

Just a hot chick, that's me (that's a joke). When you get to be my age, nobody is categorizing me like that, unless it's a direct link to actual heat. That wasn't always true: back in the day I think I was pretty good looking. You know, though, that doesn't last all that long. While I am still vigorous enough "for my age," now that eighty is in the crosshairs, I need to find gratitude for the little things. And not so little, like my life partner, SG, who has been by my side for more than a quarter century now. How cool is that?

SG and me, December 2017

This picture was taken on my birthday, at my dear friend Hedi's home, a few years ago. Hedi died suddenly this year at the end of May, and I still miss her but will not forget what a good friend she was to me. It reminds me not ever to take a day of life for granted, and to remember to thank my lucky stars for each day I have with this guy.

I hope that you, dear friends of my heart, will not forget to add gratitude to your daily diet. It sure helps the medicine go down easier.

:-)

Learning to love getting old

Mel took this of me last week

When we were driving back home from our attempt to reach Excelsior Pass last Thursday, I saw in Melanie's phone that she had taken this picture of me. When I first looked at it, I thought I looked great, and asked her for it, which she willingly provided. But then when I got home and looked more closely at it, I realized that what I liked best about it was that I thought I looked younger than my years.

Yes, when I looked more carefully at it,  I knew that nobody is going to be able to take a picture of me as an elderly woman that will make me look twenty years younger. It's a conceit I think many seniors have: that if we just get the right angle in a picture, we'll be able to disguise our true ages. Instead of looking at the photo and conceding that it shows a very fit septuagenarian, all I saw was the wrinkles, white hair, and the veins sticking out on my arm. Vanity!

Fortunately for me, I have this blog to help keep me honest. Yes, I carry around some vanity, but I am always looking for ways to let it go and cultivate humility instead. As I get older, it gets a little easier with every passing day. A delightful quote for today:

An example I often use to illustrate the reality of vanity, is this: look at the peacock; it's beautiful if you look at it from the front. But if you look at it from behind, you discover the truth... Whoever gives in to such self-absorbed vanity has huge misery hiding inside them. —Pope Francis

:-)

Private yoga session

I didn't look quite like this

Yesterday when I went to my yoga class, I was the only practitioner to show up. Maybe it's because it's a holiday week, or perhaps it's because there are only four people signed up for the semester and they are out of town, so it was just Alicia and me. She had decided to introduce us to this more difficult pose, Warrior III. Believe it or not, I was able to balance for a few seconds on one leg, but not quite as well on the other.

She started me off by leaning on the wall, standing on both feet and making a 90-degree angle, both feet on the floor, and fingertips touching the wall. Then I backed off a little from the wall. I bent my forward leg 90 degrees, and then I leaned forward on the bent leg, gradually leaning forward until only my toes were on the floor with the back leg. Little by little, I was able to lift the leg off the floor, and if I lost my balance, I could reach lightly for the wall. Then I slowly straightened the other leg and was able to do it, if only for a few seconds.

It was great to have all her attention, and she helped me believe that I could learn the pose, and sure enough, I was able to do Virabhadrasana III, even if not for very long. It was so thrilling to do it, I thought I might take another extra class today, but when I woke up, my stiff body thought maybe that would not be such a good idea. If I'm sore today, I'll be more sore tomorrow. But I'm happy!
:-)

How times have changed

Such a pretty petticoat

I've been watching the most recent season of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, billed as a period comedy. It's set in 1959-60, the time just before I was graduating from high school. The clothes have triggered so many buried memories. The dresses brought back recollections of the days when I starched and ironed crinoline petticoats, much like the one in the picture. I was wearing mine with flats and bobby socks, not heels, however.

There was a time when I would come home from school at lunchtime and iron my skirts to get rid of the wrinkles from sitting at a desk all morning. It's almost inconceivable to me today, to think of how important it was to me. I had a pink crinoline much like this one, and I have a memory of starching it in the bathtub and hanging it out to dry on the clothesline.

There are not many people who remember the days when it was not okay for a young lady to walk around without a girdle, either. Oh, I remember so well pulling that awful torture device up my legs, wiggling my teeny-tiny little derriere into it, all for the sake of fashion. I am so glad that they are gone, long gone.

A young woman gave me a pedicure yesterday and I asked her where she was from. She was born in Vietnam, she said, as most of the young ladies who work there were. I told her I had visited Vietnam twice. She asked me when, and I told her it was in the early 1990s. "Oh, so long ago," she exclaimed. I realized that to her, it was ancient history. She wasn't even born until 1994! To me, it seems like just a few years ago. We looked at each other and marveled. Me, that she could be so grown up at 22, and her, well, who knows what she thought of the old lady in her chair?
:-)

In the pink

Kathy, me, and Mona

Just by chance, when I went to exercise class today I noticed that these other two ladies were wearing the same shade of pink that I was wearing. Now, I didn't have on nice black pants like theirs, but the coincidence was one I wanted to capture by asking another person to take our picture. I almost decided to cut off our legs so we'd look more alike, but it seemed like a good picture nonetheless, so I am showing the whole thing. Aren't we cute?

Kathy has just recently finished chemo and is a proud cancer survivor (I'm not sure of her age, but she's at least old enough to be on Medicare). I just turned 75 last year, but Mona is well into her eighties and exercises every day. It just goes to show you how much of a difference it can make in one's ability to keep going well into our golden years. Or should I say that we are all "in the pink"?
:-)

Just having a snooze

Peter took this during my riotous visit to Florida

Ever see pictures of yourself sleeping? I rarely do, and Norma Jean's son Peter snuck around with a camera while neither of us was exactly conscious. I have studied this picture carefully, because I wonder sometimes what I look like when I don't have on a camera face. Obviously, this picture is not staged. We were watching TV and just laid down to get comfy and you know what happened next.

I thought long and hard about going back to Florida in February for a longer stay, but it's just not going to happen. I checked the airfares and could possibly get a bargain price, but it would be a hassle and, although it would be fun while I'm there, travel gets harder and harder to endure. A sign of aging, I guess. Looking at the picture, I realize that I often tuck my hands under my chin like that when I'm going to sleep.

The one thing that makes me want to go back down there is to see that luscious little Alicia grow and change almost by the day. She'll be a year old at the end of February. Norma Jean is still smitten, and every time I talk to her I get updates on her progress. But nobody sends me many pictures. Peter also took this picture when I didn't know he was even there; our attention was taken up by Miss Alicia, trying to get her to crawl to us. Now, six weeks later, you can't keep her back!

"What are they so excited about?"

I'll be talking to Norma Jean tomorrow, so I'll find out the latest, and maybe, just maybe, I'll get a recent picture, too. Anybody else seen Youth yet? I'd love to hear other people's take on it.
:-)

Listening to my body

Diane, Doug and Mary on the summit of Hannegan Peak

I'm not absolutely sure, but I think last Thursday's hike to the summit of Hannegan Peak was the beginning of my decline of the last few days. I know when I reached the summit, I felt weak, a little nauseated, and chilled, even though it was very hot. These are the beginning symptoms of heat exhaustion. I've experienced it a couple of times before, but I thought that by the time we reached the cars after the hike I was totally recovered, no longer thirsty and was able to finally eat my lunch as we drove back down to town.

But the next morning, Friday, I noticed a little scratchiness in the back of my throat, nothing obvious. I took some extra Vitamin C and headed off to the Y for my usual workout. I usually attend the class, even after a hard hike, because it helps to loosen up my well-used leg muscles, and I usually feel like a million bucks after a shower. It was no different on Friday.

Friday evening, however, the scratchy throat was more prominent. When I woke on Saturday morning, I was able to pretend it wasn't anything and went off for a brisk walk with the Fairhaven walkers. By that evening, it was obvious I was coming down with a cold. I took some cold medication and went to bed early, even early for me. I was planning to go skydiving Sunday with my friends, and I was just not willing to admit I was sick.

When I woke on Sunday, however, I was sneezing and sniffling, so I called my friend Linny and begged off for the day, although I REALLY wanted to go. And then yesterday, Monday, the scheduled "extra" hike to Hidden Lake Peaks was going to have to be bypassed, too. In the old days, when I was in my sixties, I would have gone. But instead, I stayed home, took it easy, and now it's Tuesday and the sneezing has stopped and I'm almost over it. At least I hope so.

I am notorious for plowing through illness and injury and pushing myself to the limit. It's getting harder and harder to do that as I age, and I am actually rather proud of myself for listening to my body and taking it easy. Today I will also get a massage, and a smile is formulating just thinking about that treat. Yes, I am hoping that I will be back to normal by Thursday when I can go out with my hiking buddies again. But I will pay attention and listen carefully to what my body is telling me.
:-)

How times have changed

Snagged from InStyle

After I watched the Oscars, I was happy that Meryl won, finally, and I really enjoyed all the dresses and jewels that dripped from all those celebrities. But then I wondered if Jane Fonda had attended, since I didn't see any pictures of her, so I googled "Jane Fonda Oscars 2012" and the link from InStyle (under the picture) came up. Here are Jane and Gwyneth Paltrow at the Vanity Fair after party.

Just look at Jane! Did you know she is 74? And in love, it seems. I used to follow her blog but gave up on it, since I think she began to let someone else write it for her. It took a distinct change in tone one day and I realized I wasn't really all that interested in hearing what she (or whoever) had to say any longer. Nevertheless, she's a very fascinating person, and I read every word on her Wikipedia page. Since I will turn 70 this year, I'm look for mentors. Many of the blogs that I currently follow are written by women who are around my age or older, and I love thinking about what might be next in my own life.

The title of this post was born out of an event that happened to me this morning. I was walking to the coffee shop after my morning workout (my schedule on Tuesdays has me getting a bun workout that would make Jane proud) when I saw a man coming toward me, obviously engaged in a conversation. But there was nobody around him and at first I thought perhaps he had an invisible friend. He was gesticulating wildly, shadowboxing with the air, and I decided to give him a wide berth. It wasn't until I saw the bluetooth in his ear that I relaxed. Oh: he's having a conversation on the phone, with no visible phone OR recipient in sight. How times have changed.

In days gone by, someone acting like he was would have been hauled off to the loony bin. That made me wonder about people who are actually a bit on the unhinged side: do people see them on the street and assume they are talking on the phone? Yep, our assumptions can no longer be so cut and dried.

Another way that times have changed is that a hundred years ago, or even fifty, nobody who is the age that Jane Fonda is could have looked like that. I read that she has had plastic surgery on her chin, neck and eyes. Since she just wrote a book about aging, she didn't feel she could deny that she's had "work" done. And she continues to work out, but with an artificial knee AND hip, she probably isn't doing a lot of the stuff that's in her old exercise videos. That new book came out last year, called "Prime Time" about many aspects of getting older. I read her 2005 autobiography and enjoyed it, so I will give this book a chance once it comes out in paperback.

Another way that my own personal times have changed is that as I grow older and notice that the signs of aging are taking a distinct turn towards letting gravity have its way with me. Bags under my eyes, sagging skin in places I didn't even realize COULD sag, and a need to get more sleep at night... all these things make me realize that the trajectory is only heading one way. It's normal, I tell myself as I flap the skin under my arms around, or try to find a more flattering way to cover my neck. Just as an aside, I read a wonderful book a few years ago by Nora Ephron, "I Feel Bad About My Neck," which is available on that link from Amazon. A very good read. Maybe I should go back and read it again. As I remember, I laughed repeatedly at some of her observations.

I just remembered that I need to get some bird seed for my wild birdies before the storm hits that is heading our way. I'll go ahead and wrap this up now so that those little cuties will have something to nibble on in the morning.
:-)

Falling into fall

Sigh. The flowers at the Farmers' Market all have the same look to them, since the summer bouquets are gone. Dahlias seems to be the only ones left, beautiful as they are, but when they are gone, it will be only dried bouquets (maybe a few chrysanthemums) until next spring. Fall is in the air, and many of my blogging friends are posting pictures of the riot of colors appearing in their parts of the country. Here, we are just now beginning to see the maples turn.

Yes, the title of this post was hopeful but alas, not to be. I was hoping to "fall into fall" at the Drop Zone in Snohomish this weekend, but today it's raining and tomorrow has a 40% chance of rain. So I am reluctantly thinking that the season is coming to an end. Here's the Climate Prediction Center's temperature forecast for the next 6- to 10-day period:

This is not hopeful for the next few weeks, at least in this part of the country, but it does mean that the fall colors should pop out reasonably soon. There's always an upside somewhere. The bruise from my flu shot is almost gone and my arm is no longer sore. I'm glad I got it, since everywhere I see people coughing and sneezing already, and it's only October. October! Where did YOU come from? Wasn't it just spring the other day? There's no doubt that time passes much faster when you're older, or at least it sure seems to. Only three more months left in 2011!

This is the time of year when I will be fighting to hold onto my hard-won weight loss. For whatever reason, it's when the chill in the air makes me feel cold most of the time that I begin to eat more. The fifteen pounds I lost this spring and summer will want to creep back on if I don't stay vigilant. There is a reason that the definition of the amount of weight I lost was also known in the U.K. as a "stone."

The stone is a unit of measure, abbreviation st which, when it ceased to be legal for trade in United Kingdom in 1985, was defined in British legislation as being a weight or mass equal to 14 avoirdupois pounds (about 6.35 kilograms). It was also formerly used in several Commonwealth countries. (Web definition)

Carrying it around felt like a stone, all right, and I sure don't want to add it back on. Any ideas about how to keep weight from creeping up during the winter months? Other than dieting, that is. For some reason it seems almost anathema to diet in the winter. Maybe it's time to start a knitting project to keep my idle hands out of mischief.
:-)

Body dysmorphic disorder

I was thinking about body dysmorphic disorder, also known as BDD, today as I was shopping for a new blouse. In the past few years, I have developed what can only be kindly described as a, well, flat tire around my waist. Usually I am not aware of it, and it's only when a picture is snapped showing this disconcerting feature that I even think about it much. Or when I undress to try on a new blouse.

That's a lie, really, as I realize that I think about it a LOT. I never used to have this flat tire, and usually I don't imagine myself as having one. But recently, I've realized that my body image as I see myself and my body image as it really is have diverged. In the picture above, you see a very thin girl who sees herself as being fat. This is one of the more well-known features of BDD, someone who cannot get thin enough to lose the fat she believes everyone else sees when they look at her. BDD also manifests itself in becoming preoccupied with one's body image, and in researching this post, I found that (of course) Wikipedia has a fascinating article with plenty of links for further study. This was taken from that link:

The disorder generally is diagnosed in those who are extremely critical of their mirror image, physique or self-image, even though there may be no noticeable disfigurement or defect. The three most common areas that those suffering from BDD will feel critical of have to do with the face: the hair, the skin, and the nose. Outside opinion will typically disagree, and may protest that there even is a defect. The defect exists in the eyes of the beholder, and one with BDD really does feel as if they see something there that is defective.

Now I know some of you are thinking of pictures of myself that I've put up on this blog, but you haven't ever really noticed that roll around my waist. That's because I am going to do everything I can to hide that particularly loathsome part of my current anatomy, from myself as well as from you. The reason for this post is twofold: first, to inform my blogging buddies that you are not alone in being self conscious about a specific body part that you are not happy with. There are lots of us out there.

The other reason is to "come out" about this and thereby (hopefully) let it go. My own particular body image, the one that I imagine I project, is that of a twenty- or thirty-year-old's curves. I forget that I am no longer in that category, unless a picture (or a mirror) reminds me that I am not a contemporary young gal. I completely forget that while I wasn't looking I got old. As my measurements changed, my body image didn't, and today I decided that I'm going to learn to be very happy in a 67-year-old body! It's not like my loved ones haven't noticed, but it's not something they focus on when thinking of my self-worth. It's me who does that.

Without further ado, here's my coming-out picture:

And that is NOT fabric around my waist, that's ME. I'm gonna try to be comfortable with it from now on. Kinda sorta, that is. But I should really do something about that nose!
:-)