Yopping Update #50 - Almost

 

I stayed monogamous with my knitting again this week.  

Here is a progress picture from last Thursday

As of today the first sleeve is done, and the second sleeve is finished with the pattern and just plain knitting for another five inches before doing the ribbed cuff. 

I developed a puncture on my right pointer finger from my sharp knitting needle, so I rummaged around in my sewing kit and found an old thimble of my grandmother's, or perhaps my aunt's that is keeping me safe.

Two weeks ago I did do one pattern repeat on my Elizabeth  Montague socks from the Bluestockings collection, but they won't get any more attention until my gansey is done.

I have been continuing my daily walks and taking pictures of the flora and fauna on my way.  My sister mailed me a bear bell to wear so I feel better cutting through the forest trails once again.  I check on the ducklings nearly everyday and although there are not as many as last year, they seem to be growing quickly. 

The squirrels like to hang around the pond too  to get the leftover bird seed after the ducks have had their fill.

I had an MRI two weeks ago, and a CTscan last Monday so I hope to get some results from the doctors this coming week.  I just finished a course of antibiotics that were making me feel tired, so I hope my energy returns this coming week. 

On the positive front my hubby and I are getting our second vaccines this coming week.  The province is opening up more and more and I will admit it makes me quite nervous.  I will take it in baby steps venturing out into the world once I am three weeks past my second dose.  That will be early July.  I don't imagine I will be rushing into 'business as usual' but I will feel more protected for sure.  My son in the next province over is hoping to get his 2nd dose perhaps by the end of June as well so all things being equal we hope to visit with him this summer. 

I did get together outside with four knitting friends yesterday for the annual Knit in Public Day.  The weather cooperated and it was so great to be chatting and knitting together just like in the old days before CoVid.  Definitely a sign of things moving forward. 

My grand-daughter is continuing to charm us with her videos and pictures and whatsapp chats.  

What a character!

Lately she has been sleeping in so I have been able to have some lovely chats with just my daughter some mornings too.  These are golden moments. 

I will leave you this week with this 'wisdom' tree.  That is what a father was telling his son as I walked past.  It really does look quite mysterious and whimsical and I do believe in the wisdom of the plant world.  Some days it truly is my saving grace. 

Interesting how the bark has formed twisting around itself

I am still processing the news I shared last week about the 215 bodies found, and then earlier this week a Muslim family of five was deliberately run over.  The parents, grandmother and teenage daughter were killed.  The survivor is a nine-year old boy who has lost his family. 

As my son once said when he was very little, "I just don't understand people".

I don't either my dear boy.  I don't either. 

Bura Vjetar

Bura is blowing.   It makes the sky so blue and the sea (more) this amazing colour.  The sun (sunce) dances on the water like diamonds.  The wind (vjetar) is fresh and cool.  A perfect day.

After an hour walk we settled at the local Konoba (Cafe) for velika toplo (tall, hot coffee) and soak up the sun for an hour or more.

We are waiting.  Today is the due date, but we all know how first babies can be.  They come in their own time.

Last night we watched a Croatian movie (with English subtitles) and my daughter worked on knitting a little elephant while I worked on a little raccoon.   It was a peaceful evening.

Yesterday my dh and I explored on our own and we found a little pekara (bakery) where I used my Croatian to order us jedan burek i jedan čokoladni kroasan (one cheese pie and one chocolate croissant).

Fireworks are a big deal here for Christmas and New Year so there is lots of big bangs in the evenings. 

I have done laundry twice, and I am getting quite good at navigating the small grocery stores and veggie markets. 

As we all wait on this winter birth we are thankful for laughter and comfortable company.  As my eldest sister said 'If Mary could give birth in a stable, all will be well with my daughter's upcoming birth.'  I know she is surrounded by angels. 

The village is quiet - the locals greet us as we walk by - the whole village is waiting for the Canadian trudnica (pregnant woman) to give birth. 

I like it here.  I like walking on the stone streets as they wind around, and the stone buildings that we pass.  Hundreds and hundreds of years of history everywhere we look.  I feel at home here. 

We are next door to this beautiful church.  I plan to attend a service soon. 

The inscription on the door says 'Ucitelj je ovdje i zove te' - the teacher is here and he calls you.

I feel safe and loved when the church bells ring.  You can hear the bells of all seven Kašteli at dusk.  (They ring at dawn too, but I am fast asleep then).

My daughter says when the Bura wind blows it makes her happy and full of energy.  I can see why. 

I feel it too. 

Spring has sprung - Hodgepodge Wednesday

Read other Hodgepodgers here at Joyce's blog.

1. Has spring sprung in your little corner of the world? Other than the calendar how would I know? What's your favorite thing about spring?

Spring is in the process of springing.  It is not yet fully sprung.  The cherry blossoms are out, but the many rainy days has detracted from their beauty.  The daffodils are blooming in droves and my apple trees are just beginning to show new growth.  The russet-backed chickadees have returned to my feeder from wherever it is they spend their winter, and the flickers are drumming on anything they can find in their annual mating rituals.  My favourite thing about spring is that it reminds me of the spring my husband and I courted - lying under the cherry trees and looking up through the pink blossoms to the blue blue sky.

 2. Besides the weather, what's put a spring in your step recently?

My spring is returning as I finally feel I am shaking off this virus I have had for well over a month.  I am back in the pool, back at yoga, at making any excuse to walk and walk and walk.

 3. How does Easter impact you?

As an esoteric Christian Easter is an important time of year for me.  I don't necessarily spend it in church, but I do spend it reading about and pondering the impact of Christ's life and death on me and the world. 

 4. I saw this somewhere on Facebook and thought it would make a fun Hodgepodge question. Which of the following would you find most disappointing...
a just stuffed taco shell breaking open and spilling out before you take the first bite? dropping a just-purchased Starbucks/Dunkin Donuts coffee? opening the peanut butter jar and finding it empty? upending onto the sidewalk a just-purchased ice cream cone? a burnt bagel popping up in your toaster when you're rushing breakfast? or cutting into an avocado and finding out it's rotten? 

Well, the taco thing happens every time I have tacos, so that is a given and doesn't bother me at all.  I think of the list, the avocado thing is the most disappointing.  I love them and they are expensive and when I want one I want it to be firm and just ripe so finding it rotten is annoying, plus then I have to think of something else to eat when my heart is set on an avocado and tomato sandwich.

 5. What's something held together with tape at your house? Or a paper clip? Or a wing and a prayer?

That is an easy answer because I am determined to go to the hardware store to get a proper fix for my cupboard that won't stay closed because the magnets have lost their oomph.  I have been kludging it together for two years now with earth magnets, and last night fiddling with the magnets caused me to burn the popcorn I was making.  (That should have been a possible answer in the previous question, lol).

6. Do you feel underappreciated? In what way?

Actually, I don't feel underappreciated at the moment.  I know there was times when I was teaching that I did - sometimes by parents, sometimes by colleagues, but not now. 

 7. What's something you'd build if you knew how?

I would like to start designing my own knitting patterns - socks, or a shawl, or even a sweater. 

 8. Insert your own random thought here.

Today
another step
taking time
being patient
trusting.

Thanking God

Meditating on

All I have

and knowing

it is enough.

For today

It is enough.



Black Friday? Not so much

The temperature has plummeted to around minus twenty celsius. The trees and bushes, the housetop and streets are lined in white.

Everywhere I look is white and black and shades of gray.

Well, not quite everywhere, because outside the window of my temporary office is a yellow pole. I think it is there to mark the crosswalk, but it is surreal.

One yellow pole amid all the white and black and gray.

It reminds me, oddly, of that scene in The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy steps out of her little house into Munchkin land, and the movie goes from Black and White to Colour.

As a child it was so magical.

As an adult it is magical still.

I am in a winter wonderland.

And so is that little yellow pole.

So, maybe it is Black Friday all over the USA and parts of Canada.

But here?

Not so much.

Lost

One of the things I love about substitute teaching is what I learn from being in another teacher's classroom.
Today it was this:

Lost

Stand still.
The trees ahead and the bushes beside you Are not lost.
Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.

No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still.
The forest knows Where you are.
You must let it find you.

An old Native American elder story rendered into modern English by David Wagoner

I stood at the end of the day while the Grade Five class recited this for me. It gave me chills. They spoke it with such resolve. It was so powerful I asked them to recite it for me again. They did.

If you are worried about the future generation?

Don't be.

They are going to be just fine.

Water water everywhere always

When I was teaching a meteorology block a few years ago I learned that all the water in the world has always been here. So this means that water I drink may have once been the tears of an elephant. The rain that falls may once have washed Jesus's feet. The water I swim in may have been in a pond that a dinosaur waded through.

I don't know about you, but for me this is a profound concept. We are all connected by water. All of us - through time and distance - whether we lived 5000 years ago, or live in Africa in 2014.

It is little wonder I like the rain and that I like to swim in oceans, or lakes, in swimming pools or rivers.

Water, for me, is healing. I love the sound of it: pouring from a tap, lapping on the shore, crashing over rocks, drumming on the roof, splashing around me, roaring in a river, pulsing down a waterfall.

Water represents our life force. It is rhythmical. It ebbs and flows. It seems to have a life of its own.

It is a big part of my life.

It is a part of all of us.

Earning his keep

We have always had squirrels around our house, but since the bird-feeder went up eighteen months ago, and since I started gardening on the back porch, they have been more, shall I say, present.

We have a squirrel-buster bird-feeder so they can only scrounge the seeds from under the feeder, and they only have to put up with the Juncos doing the same thing.

This little one broke numerous marigolds over the summer. I have picture proof.



So, he was in my bad books.

This fall my son picked the apples from our tree. We have to keep them picked otherwise we have problems with the bears. If you zoom in on this photo of said bear scat you will see apples. Ewww. Too much information.



My son couldn't reach the apples really high up, and I was worried these would start to fall and I would have to keep vigilant about the bears. There were easily two dozen apples far out of human reach.

However, my little squirrel friend redeemed him (her?)self. For about a week it went up and down that apple tree taking the apples one at a time. Somedays his balance seemed precarious, and yet his agility was splendid on those tiny branches. Somedays he brought a tiny accomplice - an offspring I think.

The tree is now clear of apples.

There are none on the ground. I imagine they are drying in some tree - a store for winter.

The bears have no reason to visit our front yard.

The little squirrel has earned his keep.

One little grey squirrel keeping us safe from the bears.

Who would have thought?



He deserves his day in the sun.

My island friend

I have been staying on a little gulf island for a month. I have the use of a little car to go here and there.

The first day I journeyed out I noticed a hitchhiker on the side=view mirror.

Oh my, I thought. She is going to get blown off as I drive.

But no. Her amazing web held her in place and when it got too windy she retreated behind the mirror.

I parked and spent a lovely evening with friends thinking she would find herself in a new place to spin her web.
But no, she had rebuilt her web and was proudly wrapping up a fly for dinner.

The next day she was still there.

And the next.

Ok, I had to name her.
Charlotte. Of course.

And so she has remained spinning and re-spinning her glorious webs. Catching flys. Hiding behind the mirror. Sunning herself. Remaining steadfast.

I know it can't last.

But she is good company.

And I will miss her when the time comes for her to leave.

I have often had an uneasy truce with spiders.

This one though?

She is a keeper.

The Rock

There is an apple orchard where locals and tourists gather in the summer to listen to music and eat pizza.
It hasn't changed in the thirty years I have been coming here.

There is a large rock that protrudes from the ground just in front of the bandstand.

Children are drawn to it - to climb up on it - to dance on it - to fall of off it.

This summer as I watched a new generation of children on the rock I thought of my children, and my sister's children and grandchildren.

I could see each and every one of them on that rock.

My daughter in her pink island hat. My son in his crazy yellow pants. My nephew as he was learning to walk. My great-nephews dancing to the Marimba band with my then twenty-year old daughter.

That rock has held the weight of generations, has felt the warm brown feet of island babies, has been a stage to the lucky audience of parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, friends and lovers.

The rock has been a moment in time where someone stands on it proclaiming in their uprightness - I am here.

And I am so lucky to have been a witness to some of it.

The rock has been a witness to it all.

The birds' garden

About 18 months ago we installed a bird feeder. It has been a delight for us watching the birds change with the seasons, getting to know what they are and their quirky little personalities.

This past spring I decided to plant a garden on the back deck. I planted six boxes of flowers and herbs. I noticed two plants coming up that I hadn't planted. One clearly looked like a sunflower. The other also looked sunflowerish. I figure the birds had dropped some seeds in the box on their way to and from the feeder. Quite clever, actually, as they are ensuring their food for next winter.

I have been tending them all summer. The sunflower is putting out many heads and happily following the sun.


However, the little plant seemed dwarfed, stalled if you will. Until yesterday I noticed this:




So is it a pumpkin? A cucumber? A zucchini?

I guess time will tell.

Those bird gardeners are pretty funny. I am glad they felt at home enough to start prettying up the place.

They will get all the seeds. I promise.

Rivers and Mountains

It was that kind of holiday. We camped right beside a number of rushing, noisy rivers over the past month. Because it was June, and despite the teachers' strike, the campgrounds were pretty empty. Often we were the only ones there.

Being alone in a campground is oddly comforting and scary at the same time. But, hey, we had our bear spray.

We discovered a few amazing free rec sites run by either BC Hydro, or forestry companies. Hats off to those who make such sites possible. They are so beautiful, and peaceful, and FREE!

We spent a couple of obligatory nights boon-docking in Wal-Mart parking lots. One in Drumheller after I drove over a very sharp object that slit our tire open. 4 hours later, thanks to Kal-Tire, and us having the best RV roadside insurance, the spare was on and we trundled to the Wal-Mart at midnight for some sleep.

Besides the scenery and a visit with our son and a golfing tournament it was a challenging trip in many ways. Both of us felt a little betwixt and between on this trip. Partly there was some trepidation about whether our truck would hold-up (it did), some worry about whether the camper batteries were holding a charge enough to run dh's cpap machine through each night (it did except at the very end we cut our trip short by one day), and mostly because when you are retired holidays take on a different flavour.

When you are working holidays are a time to sleep and read and just lie in the sun. Holidays are about leaving something behind.

When you are retired you can sleep and read and sit in the sun everyday at home. When you are on holidays you are just taking your show on the road. It is different. It took us about 3 weeks to adjust to the difference, but still and all we were glad to come home.

We talked a fair bit about next steps. We both agreed that selling the house is what we want to do, but what we don't know about is the "then what?"

And then we got home, and the sun was shining, a lovely warm breeze was blowing, and I happily tended my flowers, hung the bird feeders, did laundry, sorted mail, emptied the camper, had a l o n g luxurious bath and some yummy chinese food for dinner.

Yes, my little house is run-down, but it feels like home.

And yet, I realized this morning as I headed to the basement to put on the 4th load of laundry, home is where ever we make it. I can have flowers growing on a back deck somewhere else. This is only home because it is where I am right now.

Home for the past month was in campsites beside rushing rivers.

And that was ok too.

Friday the 13th

I am back. Just had an outdoor shower ala Mash 4077. No really. Look.

We spent two days camping with our son at Drumheller. The birds in our campsite were plentiful and amazing. We tried to identify as many as we could, but clearly we all need to take a course!

"hoodoo hoodoo" became our favourite in-joke as we discovered these amazing formations.

The Royal Tyrrell Museum is a whole day extravaganza and I am happy to report that I spent two and a half hours looking at all the dinosaur exhibits and my feet did not hurt one little bit!



The guys tried to measure up, but they were quite a few feet short.

We did discover that my son and I weigh the same as a wolf, and my husband weighs the same as a deer. None of us came close to dinosaur weight. Phew!
















We finished our trip with him at the suspension bridge.

And yes, he was bouncing even though the sign said not to!












After a teary goodbye my dh and I spent the night in Banff and then drove on to Mara. We saw a young grizzly, and a young black bear. I also saw an elk. The mountains around us were spectacular.

And now we are camped in a treed meadow, the rain is falling, the wind has finished blowing, we are fed, and I am showered (see beginning of this post),

and all is well with the world.

I had a few rough days of anxiety and stomach upset and so I have upped my medication temporarily....I am not sure why this happens when I travel. I think partly it is homesickness, partly it is worry about family, partly it is being out of my comfort zone. All it takes, though, is spotting a bear, and I am back in the game.

That, and long text exchanges with my daughter. I miss her so much and there are just so many days when I wish I could hop on a plane and be right there with her.

But I can't. She is finding her way. My son is finding his way. My husband and I are finding are way.

There are marmots playing outside our camper as we get ready for the golf tournament.

Let the adventure continue!

What a wonderful world

I was walking along the seawall today and noticed so many people walking and talking on their phone, walking and texting on their phone and it made me sad for them. The waves, the freighters, the dogs happily chasing balls and sticks, getting muddy in the, well, mud. The people I passed who met my gaze and smiled.

Those on their phones missed all that. But the saddest thing was the number of little ones, standing, looking up at their moms while their moms texted, or talked on their phones. Perhaps some of those calls and texts were earth shatteringly important, but somehow I don't think so. More then once there was also a dog looking up towards its master's face and waiting for the text to be sent.

I am glad that when I was walking my dog, and later my children, I didn't have the distraction of a cell phone and I could just chatter away to them.

Just chatter away.
The text can usually wait.
Those little ones won't be looking up at you forever.
Those waves, and birds, puppies and mud will soothe your soul. Really.
So will those smiles to those passing by.

I am glad for the technology we have available to us today. But it needs to be put into its rightful place.
And sometimes that place is in your pocket and turned off, or at the very least silenced.

Louis Armstrong was right - What a Wonderful World. We shouldn't take it for granted. Not any of it.

I see trees of green........ red roses too
I see em bloom..... for me and for you
And I think to myself.... what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue..... clouds of white
Bright blessed days....dark sacred nights
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world.

The colors of a rainbow.....so pretty ..in the sky
Are also on the faces.....of people ..going by
I see friends shaking hands.....sayin.. how do you do
They're really sayin......i love you.

I hear babies cry...... I watch them grow
They'll learn much more.....than I'll never know
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world

Bears and goats and elk, oh my

It is raining in Hinton, Alberta. I am sitting in the Smitty's, drinking mint tea, waiting for the oil change to be done on our truck. We are getting reading for the adventure along the Alaska Highway. Today we will head towards Dawson Creek, Mile 0.

So far it has been awe-inspiring. There is nothing like driving the Icefields Parkway to make you feel insignificant, yet connected, to this planet of ours. Every turn of the road brings a new vista and we had to come up with other words besides magnificient, amazing, wow!

We have seen alot of black bears, quite a few elk (even a young, spotted one), and the best was the herd of mountain goats including a little baby goat. It looked surreal, almost like a stuffed toy. Too cute!

We have had a few campfires, campfire songs, and have cooked over the open fire.

I am sleeping better, although we seem to have a battery issue for dh's cpap machine so he is currently browsing batteries next door at the RV place.

I am reading alot, and haven't knit for a week. (Maybe they will take away my Ravelry membership. :) )

So, all is well, we are in contact with our kids as we travel thanks to my new smart phone. It was definitely a good investment.

So, ya, it is raining in Hinton, Alberta, and we are getting closer to our boy in the Yukon, and should be on the next leg of our journey before noon (with new batteries apparently as dh has just returned from his battery finding expedition).

We have been on the road for a week and I am holding my family and friends in my heart as I travel. Maybe it is the vastness of the mountains, or the quiet presence of the wild animals around me, but I am feeling vulnerable, and realizing the fragility of life within the billions of years of geology around me. We are here for such a short time, and need to make it count for something. For something, or for someones, we need to make it count.

So for those around me who are fighting cancer, caring for loved ones, suffering depressions, moving to new jobs in new cities, taking on summer, planning for the future, falling in love, being human, know that you are all in my heart. Keep me in yours.

Reluctant Fall

Fall seems reluctant to really take hold this year. The one deciduous tree outside my kitchen window is resisting the turn of colours that heralds autumn's place in the seasonal shift of time.
The days are warm, the sun bright and summer still beckons us back to days on a beach, in the water, on a back deck.

Perhaps the reluctance is because there are only so many winters in one's life, in this life. For some close to me the winter is too much with us, for others spring is perpetual.

Saint Michael has come again this fall to bring us courage. Soon Saint Martin will remind us to be generous with whatever we have - be it time, or money, or belongings. And when the November rains overwhelm us, Advent will come to shed some light into the deepening darkness.

Be brave, dear Autumn. It is your time. Bring on your cool mornings, your cooler evenings, your vibrant colours of red and gold. We are not afraid.

And you are so beautiful.

Crashing waves

Home from ten days away. Away to the wild, wet, pacific west coast. Sleeping in till 10 every day. Walks on the beach. A few campfires. Listening to the radio Eating good food. Cozy in our camper.

This is, perhaps, my last spring break for some time. Retirement is only 2 months away. Wow. I think I will start calling it a sabbatical. Retirement, at my age, doesn't sound right. It doesn't ring 'true', as my mother would say.

It was peaceful. The weather report was for rain, rain, and more rain. We had one day of pouring rain, but it was good because I did all my marking. Silver lining and all that stuff.

Mostly the days were a mix of cloud and sun, and the last two days full on sun.

And every day was accompanied by the sound of the Pacific Ocean. Not so peaceful, the name that is. The sound, to me, is very soothing.

Perhaps it is the repetition. Repeating, but not the same. Surging, receding, ebbing, flowing. Each wave different from the last, each one bringing a promise, perhaps a surprise.

We saw a murder of crows digging in the sand. Each one of them digging in the sand. A mystery. An intelligence. A reminder that I don't know about alot of things. I only know that those waves, those beaches, that sand brings me peace.

I was occasionally struck by melancholy on this trip. Suddenly, like a rogue wave, it would wash over me. I would turn to my husband in despair. The tears would flow. It is a simple answer to say it was low blood sugar - although eating would help. I think it is more omnipresent than that

On that wild Pacific coast I feel small and insignificant. I feel far away from family and friends. I feel - well - lost. And yet in the losing of myself I find something infinitely greater.

My faith is always with me these days. As I pray for the health of my loved ones, for the safety of my loved ones, for the peace of the world.

I can't keep them all safe under my wings, but I can keep them safe in my heart.

My husband asked if the pounding waves would become persistent, annoying, day in and day out if we chose to live by such an ocean.

I don't think so. The sound reminds me minute by minute, tide by tide, of God. God is in the details.

I heard a question asked of a rabbi, the father of nine children, when he was left paralysed after a car accident.

"I don't ask why did God let this happen to me. I ask what does he want me to do now?"

So, I think, for me, those waves were asking: What do you want to do now? The melancholy is simply an opening to the infinite possibilities - as large as the ocean, as perfect as each wave, as cleansing as my baptism.

It is no coincidence that this is Easter Sunday. The Resurrection and the Life. Looking forward to Pentecost.

spring break

Well the sheets are washed, the bottles returned, the taxes entered (just waiting on some numbers from my dear girl), the back porch swept, and the medical receipts submitted. Whew! Spring Breaks are exhausting.

I also have been knitting (and frogging - I can't seem to find the pattern I like for the bamboo wool I have), visiting friends, and napping.

This will be my last Spring Break for, well perhaps, ever. It is odd to think about being retired. Odd, but good. Very good.

I imagine we will head for the West (wet) coast soon in our camper. The forecast is for rain, rain, and then, wait for it, more rain. Thank God we have a furnace, and a hot water shower inside our little abode.

We are looking forward to wave, wind, whales, and hot springs.

Of course, I will also take along some marking, and we do have to begin to plan a budget for our drop in income come August. I don't have a pension, so we will be living on my husband's pension. I am a bit of an ostrich about these things, but I will have to get my head out of the sand and take a realistic look at our expenses. Maybe, next week.

But for now I have mending to do, and blocking to do (a lace scarf that needs to be blocked on wires - something I have never done). I also have socks to darn and a baby sweater to finish. My colleagues all seem to be having babies (well, not all, but three of the female variety).

The bills are paid, the dishes done, and I may even sweep the floor. I actually like a tidy house when I am not overwhelmed with school work.

The question keeps coming up - what next? Where do we want to live? I have to say, today, with the fresh wet cedars all around me, and the birds singing, I could just stay here.... The cedars have pretty much taken over both the front and back yards - it is like living in a little cabin here on the hill overlooking the city - and yet, it isn't because the neighbours will soon be intimating our trees are too big, and they (gasp) drop leaves on their properties. Sigh. Why did they move to this area if they don't like trees? They could go live in Richmond. Just sayin'.

Anyways, last night I felt kinda blue (but I think I was tired), today I am calmly happy and optimistic.

For me, this is always a good thing.

And, the daffodils are everywhere.

And, the cherry blossoms have arrived.

I can't wish for anything else.

sun, sand, mead, and me

As summer winds down, at least for me, I have spent a glorious number of days on the little island with three of my siblings, my husband, and two great-nephews. Sleeping late, crossword puzzles, chasing the sun around the yard, swimming, winery visits, campfires.....ahhhhh.

This is relaxing at its best. Good food, good conversation, good friendships, and comfort.

Comfort is a state of mind, not the owning of things, or the acquiring of things....just comfort - in my own skin, and in the company of those around me.

Yesterday we saw three eagles in full flight, chasing each other, slamming into each other, one even turning somersaults. What an amazing sight. How lucky we all were to witness something so wild and free.

I got a little too much sun yesterday (well I worked hard at this chasing the sun from spot to spot to spot from 10am until 6pm, but I feel good, and strong and healthy.

That can't be a bad way to end the summer.

geology

What is it about mountains and waterfalls that engross us, capture us, draw us into a moment of awareness and awe? Is it because they have been here for millions of years before we saw them, and they will be here for millions of years after? Is it because they are so solid, and comforting? Is it because for a moment all our petty problems seem so very, very small?

The pulsing of a waterfall. It doesn't really fall at all. It stops and starts and stops and starts and stops and starts ad infinitem. It pulses with a rhythm all its own, whether I am watching it or not. Whether I am here or not. It all goes on, with or without me. Changing, eroding, flowing.....

It makes me feel so small, and so brave at the same time.

Nature. It heals me. There is a sense to it. A huge sense. Comforting.

Day two.....

It started well. Up early (well, early for us which is about 7:30am). Coffee and breakfast in a sunny, grassy campsite. Out by 9:30, which again, is uber early for us.
Groceries stocked up cause we were heading into the cascades. Check. Camping world to buy something frivolous for the camper. Check. Heading to Hwy 20, the slower scenic route. Check.

Stopped for nap around 2:30pm. On the road again by 3:30 pm. Check.

Driving up the long, long hill to the pass, and.......suddenly, no power in the truck. We coasted into a trail head parking turn-off, and then the truck DIED!

Eek! No cell phone reception. A group of hunky hikers, but they didn't have cell phone reception either. We tentatively restarted the truck, and it started, and then made a horrible noise (death rattle?), but it kept running, albeit with the engine malfunction light on (no kidding).

So, we heading out onto the road, heading for the nearest town 35 miles away called Winthrop. Of course no Dodge dealer there, but a very cute, western themed town. Get it Dodge? Like in , Dodge city? oh, never mind.

Ok, so by now it is 6ish, Mary-Anne has low blood sugar (watch out!), and the 1-800 number to call for assistance from Dodge is a wait time of 38-58 minutes. Nope, don't think that will work.

We head for the lake campsite and decided to pay extra so we had internet and Brian could look up the closest Dodge dealer. Fortunately it is only about 70 kms. away, and on the same route we are heading. So the plan is to head there early tomorrow morning and hope that it is an easy fix. The truck is driveable, but not alot of oomph.

So, a quick dinner of hotdogs and caesar salad to get the blood sugar up, a glass of wine (or two) for Brian, and a cup of tea for me. We are fending off the mosquitos with Muskol, and a citronella candle, and listening to many, many birds singing.

I am happily reading a harlequin romance on my Kobo, and Brian is on the internet forum checking out stuff about diesel motors.

So, Day two, barely 24hours into the adventure, and, well, we are having an adventure. I am sure it will all turn out ok......but, if you are in the good books with the guy upstairs, a good word or two in our favour wouldn't hurt.

Oh, and the mountains through the pass? Amazing!