Author: Peg

Actually, the sun is not scheduled to reappear until Thursday.

This morning I discovered that I had forgotten how to jump.
You know, push oneself off a surface and into the air by using the muscles in one’s legs and feet.

I couldn’t do it.
For no apparent reason, I decided to jump up onto a curb.
Brain signals legs “jump”.
I look down, and my feet are firmly glued to the ground.
The feet have no idea how to get off the ground.

Apparently, I no longer possess the jump code sequence.
I step up onto the sidewalk and proceed on my way.
After ten steps, I try again.
Success. Maybe an inch off the pavement.

I keep trying.
Walk ten steps.
Stop.
Jump.
Repeat.

No laughing.
Someday you too might forget how to jump.

August is the February of Summer.
But I really should not complain about the weather this summer.
It was pavement-melting hot in early July, but I was in Canada.
That was luck. Not smarts.

Wrestling with being old today.
I know it’s all about Accept and Adapt.
But damn, it’s hard sometimes.

I start asking questions.
Should I buy new shoes?
(Carlton bought new tennis shoes and died 3 days later.)

The DNR stuck on the door of the Old Bat Cave is no longer jarring.
I find myself taking the easier, softer way.

Carlton would know how to deal with this.
He would say: Make a gratitude list.

Grateful to have made it this far.
With most of my marbles.

The end of July, already?
Two months from now, cruising around the Maritimes.
Three months from now, back in Kona.
Remember woman.
Nobody is promised tomorrow.
Enjoy every sandwich.

Several months ago my theory was: August and the Republicans would invoke the 25th Amendment. They would do it to save the midterms, and their sorry asses, in hopes of staying out of prison. Not so sure anymore. We’ll see.

July is quietly winding down.
Mr. Sun is creeping southward.
I am not getting any younger.
The final payment on this year’s condo in Kona just went out.

Went with a friend to the hospital today. She was having scheduled maintenance done on her pacemaker.
All went well.

Nothing like Cheetos to help keep your arteries clear.

Today’s project was a bit of photo culling.

Politics remains frightful.
The weather is still wonderful.
We can count on Mother Nature to even the score.
The voters? I am not sure.

All manner of dire weather warnings. Rain, tornadoes, hoards of locusts.

I had a mellow day.

Repotted an orchid.
Cleaned up the mess.
Took the detritus to the trash room.
Discovered an abandoned orchid.
Brought it back to the Old Bat’s Cave.
Got the repotting stuff back out.
Inspected the orphan.
Leaves look good.
The roots are mostly mush.
Repotted it. Put it in the window.
It gets 13 months to bloom.
I am too old for lengthy salvage operations.

I must stop trying to take insect photos with my phone!

I was doing my morning yoga when this wonderful dragon appeared in the sky.

Friends are in Yosemite, sending pictures every day of glorious hikes.

Well.
I can hike too!

No feeds, no algorithms, just Mother Earth.

3.25 miles. 

That rose is made from 12-inch paper.
I have some 18-inch paper left over from a box project a couple of years ago.
Wonder if I could make an 18-inch Kawasaki Rose?
Wonder what I might do with 18-inch paper?
Death cleaning, you know.

It’s Sunday. Maybe they are all at church?
It’s Summer. Maybe they are all at the beach?

Water orchids.
Backup computer.
Fold paper.
Scour the weekly menu for anything edible.
Read a book.
Figure out a fun way to get to Kona.
Look at the train photos.

I didn’t take many pictures this trip.
Finally accepting that I am not Ansel Adams.

Another day in the 80s. Open the windows.

For the record. This is the cleaned-out fridge.
I have opened the door a couple of times just to admire my work.
Did the freezer too.
Then it was time to go outside.

I scuttle off for my walk.

It’s not even August yet. Way too early for Halloween.

Or is it? This was in the email this morning.

I plan on hopping on my broom and heading back to Kona on October 31.

I plot the sun’s walk up and down the eastern horizon with the zeal of the builders of Stonehenge.

Hope to be on my way to Kona before it disappears for a couple of long, dreary months.

My friends here at The Asylum always like this video. 

“Aloha Friday No Work Till Monday” by Kimo Kahoano & Paul Natto

Grateful for another summer day in the 80s. 

And the windows are still open at 4PM.

A lazy post-brain-surgeon day.

I thought I deserved a day off.
Which begs the question.
Off from what?

Management just said that all of our elevators “should” be replaced by Spring 2028.
That was supposed to make us happy.
Spring 2028 is the far far mythological distant future to my cohort.

It’s some sort of leptoglossus. Had a cicada up here yesterday.

Higher Management is spending money on a consultant. He is apparently developing a plan to make our dining experience more gracious. One of his ideas is that the servers, AKA high school kids, should pull out the chairs for the residents.

Sorry, Carol, I couldn’t resist turning you into a cartoon character!

Yep. This must be the right office.

Brain surgeon report: Good news. No brain surgery. But I knew that already! Dr. Kim reviewed my MRI and is convinced that the little artery loop on the right side is just an interesting anatomical quirk and has nothing to do with the left-sided trigeminal neuralgia. And for now, the TN remains idiopathic. 

Since the “electric bear” has mostly gone back into hibernation, he doesn’t think I need medication or any procedures at this point. The good news is that we now have a plan for next time. When the bear wakes up, and if I get back to the point where I can’t eat or drink, I am not supposed to tough it out. I’m supposed to head to the Emergency Department, where there is an IV medication that can sometimes stop a severe attack. He wrote an order for the medication and left it in MyChart.  Not exactly an exciting medical adventure, but I’ll happily settle for “go live your life and call us when the bear comes back.”

Grateful to everyone who supported me and insisted that I “DO SOMETHING.”

But what I’m really grateful for is knowing you’ll be there when the electric bear comes out of hibernation.