Friend Ellie just spent 3 days with us. We went to Santa Barbara High School together a billion years ago (well, in the 50's), also began UCSB at the same time. She's a very direct, outspoken, fun person with lots of energy, a retired elementary school teacher.
Patrick, Ellie and I had lunch on Tuesday with Dennis, another classmate who Ellie stays in touch with. He reminded us that he was the youngest compared to E. and I. Altho' I barely remember Dennis from school, it was fun getting together. We sat on the balcony at Brophy Brothers for a 3 hour lunch, it was a beautiful day.
Toward the end of the afternoon, Dennis confided that he had a doctor's appointment the next day -- it was to discuss the dark spot on his lung that an x-ray had revealed. It brought up a whole lot, including my own dark spot.
At our last high school reunion last year I wanted to stand up in the middle of the picnic area on Sunday and scream: OK, everyone, time to rip off your disguises. You, over there, off with the white wig. John, you don't wear horned rim glasses to read! Time to slip off all that wrinkled skin, everybody. Stop this kidding around, it's not funny!
I wanted to...
So there are dark spots that we have to acknowledge and move on. They may be serious or just a bumpy place in our road. Everyone has them. It's how we handle those spots in our lives.
About five years ago two women that I knew developed inoperable cancer at the same time. Tairi was most concerned about telling me that she had a limited time to live, so upset, knowing how I'd feel.
Diana was impatient and cold when I called her to express my condolences, saying that I didn't know what to say. She growled back, "Well, then, why did you call?"
The spots in our lives.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Sharks and Smoke
I was telling my shark story to some women at my gym and Ingrid said she thought they may have been Basking Sharks. Could be, although it takes some of the bite out of my rant about how sinister they looked. Basking Sharks are notoriously timid, shy creatures, not dangerous at all. Ah shucks.
I've been hovering indoors most of the day because of the smoke and ash from the wild fire up in the back country. Even though it's many miles away, the residue reaches us and there are gray bits of ash all over my car. It's not good for anyone to inhale -- me in particular.
During the 37 years of cigarette smoking my lungs were compromised and I have scar tissue on one lung that shows as a dark spot in Xrays. My doctor warned me to stay away from second hand smoke and, of course, never start smoking again. I had my last cigarette in 1989 and would NEVER go back.
We have given up friends who smoke. I just won't gamble on my health in order to be polite. I wish I could apologize to all the people I jeoprodized with my terrible habit for all those years. Especially my two daughters.
So, Law of Attraction. I wish to attract healthy, happy people into my life who act responsibly: physically, mentally and emotionally, both toward themselves and others. No human being is totally evolved, but we all can surely work on it.
It continues to be a busy summer. I've been saying what other folks say when they retire -- how did I find time to work?
I've been hovering indoors most of the day because of the smoke and ash from the wild fire up in the back country. Even though it's many miles away, the residue reaches us and there are gray bits of ash all over my car. It's not good for anyone to inhale -- me in particular.
During the 37 years of cigarette smoking my lungs were compromised and I have scar tissue on one lung that shows as a dark spot in Xrays. My doctor warned me to stay away from second hand smoke and, of course, never start smoking again. I had my last cigarette in 1989 and would NEVER go back.
We have given up friends who smoke. I just won't gamble on my health in order to be polite. I wish I could apologize to all the people I jeoprodized with my terrible habit for all those years. Especially my two daughters.
So, Law of Attraction. I wish to attract healthy, happy people into my life who act responsibly: physically, mentally and emotionally, both toward themselves and others. No human being is totally evolved, but we all can surely work on it.
It continues to be a busy summer. I've been saying what other folks say when they retire -- how did I find time to work?
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Sharks
The marine layer cleared late this morning, so we decided to take a beach walk after visiting our recyle center and the donation drop off at our local thrift store.
We chose the beach at Isla Vista, which is adjacent to the housing neighborhood for students at the University of California at Santa Barbara. There are also scattered, friendly people there living in RV's and vans.
One can walk along the bluffs, then descend stairs down to the beach, or continue, like we did, on the bluff path all the way to Coal Oil Point. It was remarkably clear, our Channel Islands which are about 45 miles out to sea were unusually visable for a summer day. The sky was a deep blue and way out the ocean was a fitting navy blue.
Then we spotted them. Sharks! The waves were breaking gently, it was high tide and there seemed to be a clear corridor of green, tropical looking, shallow water between the shoreline and deeper water. We first counted 7 of them, at least 5 feet long, swimming very slowly back and forth. As we walked along we lost count, as they would turn and go back the way they came. They were, in a word, sinister.
Then, a woman with her young son approached the stair way to the beach. The boy had a boogie board under his arm. I decided to butt in and told them about the sharks and she quickly told her son that he wasn't going in the water today! She thanked me. Of course, the boy wanted to know what kind of sharks they were. I suppose they were sand sharks, but they were big and very black, that's all I cared about. And thot their behavior strange, so close to the beach.
We tracked the sharks for several hundred feet, then the path was too far away from the ocean. As we doubled back to leave we saw them again, not as clearly. Just as we were heading back to the car we were treated to dolphins way off shore. Sighting them always makes me happy.
A very special day and very unforgettable.
We chose the beach at Isla Vista, which is adjacent to the housing neighborhood for students at the University of California at Santa Barbara. There are also scattered, friendly people there living in RV's and vans.
One can walk along the bluffs, then descend stairs down to the beach, or continue, like we did, on the bluff path all the way to Coal Oil Point. It was remarkably clear, our Channel Islands which are about 45 miles out to sea were unusually visable for a summer day. The sky was a deep blue and way out the ocean was a fitting navy blue.
Then we spotted them. Sharks! The waves were breaking gently, it was high tide and there seemed to be a clear corridor of green, tropical looking, shallow water between the shoreline and deeper water. We first counted 7 of them, at least 5 feet long, swimming very slowly back and forth. As we walked along we lost count, as they would turn and go back the way they came. They were, in a word, sinister.
Then, a woman with her young son approached the stair way to the beach. The boy had a boogie board under his arm. I decided to butt in and told them about the sharks and she quickly told her son that he wasn't going in the water today! She thanked me. Of course, the boy wanted to know what kind of sharks they were. I suppose they were sand sharks, but they were big and very black, that's all I cared about. And thot their behavior strange, so close to the beach.
We tracked the sharks for several hundred feet, then the path was too far away from the ocean. As we doubled back to leave we saw them again, not as clearly. Just as we were heading back to the car we were treated to dolphins way off shore. Sighting them always makes me happy.
A very special day and very unforgettable.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
A few years ago, while visiting daughter Jen at her home in the Yukon Territory in Canada, we took a day trip down to Skagway, AK. Both of my daughters are fascinated with old cemetaries -- not sure why -- so visits w/them usually entail a trip to a cemetary or two.
Jen took me to the one near the Chilkoot Trail, in the woods, in the middle of nowhere. As we parked the car in the lot to take the pathway to the burial place, she casually mentioned that there have been several bear sightings in the area.
We walked down the trail, maybe 200 yards, and arrived where a space in the woods had been cleared and surrounded by a split rail fence. There are perpendicular pieces of wood at each grave with the carved names of each gold scavenger who died in the avalanche at Chilkoot Trail in 1898.
It is quiet, there is no one else there. Alive, anyway.
I realize the camera is still in the car, so Jen volunteers to go get it. I wander around a bit and notice there is a woman's name on one of the markers. Curious. I'd always thought the gold rushers were all men. Time passes. Jen doesn't come back. I chide myself about being nervous, then decide to walk back along the trail and meet up with her. I casually start out. Keep walking. Nothing. I am almost at the car. No one. I arrive at the car and Jen is not there.
Bears come to mind. I start back along the path and begin calling "Jen, Jennifer, where are you?" No answer. I walk a little faster. "Jen!" Now I am almost back to the graveyard. Oh, God, please, where is she? Finally I hear her calling "Mom?" "Mom!" Here she was, coming back down the path. I start laughing nervously, "I thought sure the bears got you!"
She had stopped in the porta potty on the trail.
I refer to this as my "The Bear Story." Because it was my reality that a bear could eat my daughter. I had passed the porta potty 3 times and never saw it. The bear was real, the outdoor toilet was not. Perception...
(To learn more about the Dyea Cemetary and the activities in the area many years ago, google DyeaCemetary, and it's the first entry. There are also great photos.)
Jen took me to the one near the Chilkoot Trail, in the woods, in the middle of nowhere. As we parked the car in the lot to take the pathway to the burial place, she casually mentioned that there have been several bear sightings in the area.
We walked down the trail, maybe 200 yards, and arrived where a space in the woods had been cleared and surrounded by a split rail fence. There are perpendicular pieces of wood at each grave with the carved names of each gold scavenger who died in the avalanche at Chilkoot Trail in 1898.
It is quiet, there is no one else there. Alive, anyway.
I realize the camera is still in the car, so Jen volunteers to go get it. I wander around a bit and notice there is a woman's name on one of the markers. Curious. I'd always thought the gold rushers were all men. Time passes. Jen doesn't come back. I chide myself about being nervous, then decide to walk back along the trail and meet up with her. I casually start out. Keep walking. Nothing. I am almost at the car. No one. I arrive at the car and Jen is not there.
Bears come to mind. I start back along the path and begin calling "Jen, Jennifer, where are you?" No answer. I walk a little faster. "Jen!" Now I am almost back to the graveyard. Oh, God, please, where is she? Finally I hear her calling "Mom?" "Mom!" Here she was, coming back down the path. I start laughing nervously, "I thought sure the bears got you!"
She had stopped in the porta potty on the trail.
I refer to this as my "The Bear Story." Because it was my reality that a bear could eat my daughter. I had passed the porta potty 3 times and never saw it. The bear was real, the outdoor toilet was not. Perception...
(To learn more about the Dyea Cemetary and the activities in the area many years ago, google DyeaCemetary, and it's the first entry. There are also great photos.)
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