Walking

Got my new walking shoes on and drove myself to Pioneer Park, wait for it, and then I went for a 20 minute walk.  There is parking near the center and that way I can walk as far as I can and still stay near the van.  It's not a huge park but I'm more out of shape than I realized.  I had to stop twice.  I circled through the aviary, around a very green pond, and back to the van.  One pause for breath by the aviary I saw this little bird   It's a Temminick's Tragopan.  Never heard of it; I had to check it online.  It's a kind of Asian pheasant.  

The Park aviary has been a target for the city budget cutters for awhile now.  They decided to cut off its funding and close it.  Big objections all around.  The city said it could stay if someone else paid for it.  Private fund raising kicked in and raised enough to save it an hour before the 5PM deadline the day the city was going officially stamp it a lost cause.  This speckled bird is one of the residents.  The whole park is somewhat neglected in spots.  The bandstand my son and his wife were married in is falling apart.  There was a wedding by it today as I arrived but not in it.  The large creek fed pond is wall to wall scum, and so on and so on.  It has a fairly new playground for kids, a nice rose garden, and some outdoor sculpture. Money, money.

I got back into the driver's seat but it was too nice to go home so I drove out to the Mill Creek trail looking for a less populated view.  I was breathing comfortably again so I took a short, slow 10 minute stroll up and down one side.  I saw a blue heron fly upstream but I wasn't fast enough with my almost smart phone to catch it.  I did get a shot of this Canadian Goose napping on a rock midstream.  

I wobbled back to van after this little walk, maxed out.  But I was pleased with myself.  I think I will try Mill Creek again tomorrow if my feet have recovered.  I finished the afternoon by driving up to Bennington Lake where I parked and watched other people walk and kayak while I listened to the breeze waft through the thistles and trees.  It was lovely.

Kitchen Frisbee and the risks of moving

I have a set of Farberware stainless steel clad over aluminum cookware that has been the staple of my kitchen for years.  I bought it at a serious discount from Frederick and Nelson in Seattle when sadly F&N went out of business forever.  Today though I managed to cook the bottom right off the one-quart  pot I use the most.

No, it's not the lid.  Amazing what a repeated application of too much heat will do.

I lean on my timer for all things burner connected.  And I cook low and slow.  That's why I got a tiny laptop I could use in the kitchen.  Handy for recipes too, no printing required.  My problem seems to be just boiling plain water. Water for oatmeal, my favorite  breakfast year 'round.  I have scorched a stew or two but nothing major. Today I set the timer but failed to actually start it ticking.  I had to add water in the nick of time, I thought, and made my gruel oatmeal.  The bottom of the pot stayed on long enough for me to wash it and when I picked it up to dry it this Farberware Frisbee fell off the bottom.

This is actually the replacement pot for the original one in the set.  In 1999, the year I moved to Walla Walla, I left the original pot on the range long enough to cause huge bubbles to form between the aluminum and the stainless steel sandwich.  Cooked my oatmeal anyway and went shopping and I found the new Farberware one at a local store.  It was actually a little nicer than the original and the handles matched the original set.  Oddly enough I've just moved again after 15 years and voila.  No bubbles this time, complete separation.  Macy's is having a sale. Crossing my fingers.

A little rain please!

The weather is cooling down but no rain.  Daughter-in-law's father heard sirens a couple of nights ago and got up to see the brushy hillside above his house on fire.  A neighbor's illegal (we are under a 100% outdoor fire ban) burn pile got away from him.  Our firefighters were out in the dark along with several other communities fire departments in a steep gully of ponderosa pines and brush working to put it out.  It burned about 200 acres but they had it out by morning.  Many of these people are volunteers especially from our smaller rural communities. Their dedication is just heart stopping to me.  I am so grateful for their work and commitment.  They've had a helluva year this year, many fires moving into communities and burning homes.

 

Copyright 2003 Randy Glasbergen

That's not what my doctor said but I'm in one of those move it or lose it places again.  I had my first PT appointment today for my hip.  I've got the best physical therapist ever, Mike Clark.  His kids are about the age of my grandkids and my daughter-in-law is their dental hygienist.  Small town interconnections.  Did some stretching of the hips lying on my back, not much play in there, stiff as a board.  He thinks, if I follow directions, I can get back into the gym.  I'm feeling optimistic.  I have exercises to do twice a day and I'm sore already and getting the heat packs out.  I moved to this condo so I could walk to most places I go and this hip business is keeping me from it.  Plus if it's successful that means no hip surgery. Onward.

Soccer season is on with the grandgirls.  Only four this year, and miracle of miracles, three of them are on the same team, half the practices and games to get to from previous years.  I park my fanny in my chair and cheer them on.  They are winning, and while the theme is "winning isn't everything" they have a lot more enthusiasm for...winning of course.  The team of 8-year-olds doesn't keep score but they all know what it is anyway.  My son coaches the eights, the 3rd year I believe, and he said it was amazing to watch how the girls changed over that time, this year they actually listen to what he tells them.  He is a big, loud guy with a persistently gentle approach and it really seems to work,  Plus at eight their thinkers are beginning to organize and reasoning is kicking in.

And, I'm watching the Scottish vote for independence today.  My paternal grandfather, a Scottish immigrant in who arriving in the USA in the early 1900's with his elder brother, were descendants from Highlanders who were a Sept of the Clan Ross.  I can't say what is the correct vote for Scotland. But I hope they get what is best for them.  The Ross clan has a centuries long history of warring with the British.  Clan Ross, short history. I know there were/are some strong, long held family feelings on both the Irish and Scottish sides of our family about British occupation over the centuries, and how much more so must it be for those still living there.

Here's the deal

The mother of eight of my 10 grand-kids likes to look at the current culprit of some heinous deed and say with frustration "What's your deal?" The kids range from 2 to 17 and every three months or so  one of them seems to have morphed into a new version; change is rampant.

Four of them, 8 to 13, remind me that I have morphed into "old" and some of the more vocal are worry-warting out loud that I'll die on them as their great-grandma did a year ago.  Except for great-grandma's sister who is 91, I am, at 72, the oldest one in all directions.  How did that happen?  At least the toddlers don't know and don't care, although I can no longer pick either one of them up. I tell them I'm not worried, I hope they won't, and that my side of the family was full of asthmatic, arthritic women some of whom made it to over 100, and on their feet. That's true. Sadly my own asthmatic mother managed to smoke herself into emphysema and died, angry at herself, at 74. When I think of her she is up at four in the morning, sitting in the dark smoking and drinking coffee.  She said that was the only way she could get any time to herself. I am not my mother, okay, some ways I am but not that particular way.  But I will probably breath a sigh of relief when I pass my 74th birthday. But we can make some choices.  I don't want to be pissed off at myself at the end whenever that comes. I'm trying to make my own deal.

I need to get moving.  I'm starting physical therapy for my arthritic hips. And no, I don't want to go.  My feet are in the same condition so I'm off tomorrow to find the recommended supportive shoes, read either homely or expensive or both.  I have refused to deal with this over the last year and now I am physically out of shape from not walking because of these hips and feet.  If I don't get myself moving I may seize up over the winter like some derelict trawler left tied up and neglected in the weather too long.

So I have:
1) Went in for the long overdue physical hence the physical therapy.
2) Made an appointment for new glasses to eliminate the other reason I fall off my feet.
3) Going to the audiologist because my hearing may be going, and vanity aside, it's hard to be social if you can't understand half of what anyone is saying.  And my family is LOUD.
4) Admitted I can no longer wear shoes that may damage my feet and worse yet cause me to fall. I gave away most of my lovely high heels.  I kept a pair that I used to go dancing in.  Makes me feel good to look at them now and then.
5)Admitted I was depressed and went to see a counselor because I was staying home napping, hoping the boxes to unpack themselves or maybe hoping someone would steal them.  How so you spell depression? We did some grief work about losses, moving, aging, kids leaving, deaths.  Not everyones' bag but it worked for me.
6) Realized I could live to be 90, eek, and what do I want to be when I grow up, again.
7) Got out my easel, pencils, and paints.  Started drawing.
8) Joined back up with Audubon, I belonged since I was in the 4th grade and when I got divorced (again) I dropped it along with several other things I enjoyed.  A pattern had formed.  I like the walking outside, the other birders, and drawing the birds and plants.

And very cool, my eldest son Chris and I are going to see Neil DeGrasse Tyson at Cordiner Hall on the Whitman College campus here.  Some great things and people show up in Walla Walla because of the colleges here.

Treasure Hunt

I'm feeling energized.  At 8am, it's a lovely, sunny 57° here in Walla Walla.   The days are in the upper 70's to low 80's.   A miracle after weeks and weeks of 95° to 100°+.  All my windows are open, the A/C is off and I can hear the birds.  My family helped me empty my rental storage last week which adds $ to my budget and I am getting my storage room here organized.  At least I can walk around in it and see the labels on the boxes and bins.  My living room and spare bedroom are stacked with boxes once more.  It's discouraging and like Christmas morning all at the same time.  Where did all this come from?  I found things I didn't know I had any longer.  A carefully wrapped package emerged.

I could feel the frame through the foam wrapping and discovered "Night Light at Kalaloch Beach," a print by Christopher Paul Bollen all framed and ready to be hung.  I had moved it from Seattle in 1999 and assumed that I had lost it.  It was hidden away with some blank canvasses and other art materials in storage for nearly 15 years.  Yowser!  I looked Bollen up on the internet and discovered he no longer lives around Seattle but has moved to the Washington Coast.  My favorite pieces of his are monochromatic and of the beach and Seattle street scenes.  I am so thrilled to have this back in my life.  The building on the ridge is one of the cabins on south end of Kalaloch Lodge.  I, my two young sons, and their Dad spent many good weekends there.  One odd April, spring break, we were there and big storm hit complete with snow and all the power went out.  All the lodgers gathered with the staff in the main lodge where a generator supplied some power and light and it turned out to be one of the best times we spent there.