CHAMPION GAZER

Already four days into the vacation; it's flying by.  Hung out at the Marriott on Friday and Saturday.  Went to Waimea Canyon yesterday and did a miserable hike on the Canyon Trail, which looked vaguely familiar and later I realized we also did it in 2012 and I was not so happy then, either.  http://myviewfromhere-donna.blogspot.com/2012/05/hikingfor-birds.html

I keep trying to like hiking and I keep hating it.  I want to be a good "adventure" companion for Hub and hiking seems like something I could do, unlike snowboarding (risking a broken hip standing on a slippery hunk of wood sliding down the side of a mountain) or snorkeling (akin to waterboarding) or pitching a no-hitter (which he did and I nearly missed it because I was young and more interested in chatting with my friends in the stands).  But nearly every time I hike I end up feeling incompetent, hot, sweaty, sore, tired, and angry.  No fun.  Also, as the laughing, smiling, "ain't it great to be on this trail?" hikers pass us by, I feel like a lame-ass loser.  Also no fun.

One couple on their way down the trail to the waterfalls asked if we were having a good time.  I said no, not really.  Silence.  Then they asked if the waterfalls were spectacular anyway.  Hub said not particularly unless you have never seen a waterfall, which, being from Washington means we've seen a kajillion of them.  The ones at the end of the trail were like 15 feet or something.  Puhleeze!  At any rate, our responses were not the requisite jolly good time exhortations our trail companions were seeking.  I'm sure they thought we were champion curmudgeons.  They were right in my case; not so much Hub's.  He was just trying to be informative.

We are staying at the resort today -- beach and pool time.  But I woke up thinking I should be taking more advantage of this vacation/vacant time.  I should meditate more, do some beach yoga, take longer walks or go the gym.  But mostly I'm re-reading the second book in the Outlander series.  (Diana Gabaldon has laced these books with some sort of addictive subliminal messaging.  I never re-read fiction books and I can't stop myself....plus the TV series is covering the same territory and that is equally addicting.  Even Hub said the other night, as we caught up on Season 5 of Game of Thrones and endured yet another graphically violent massacre, "I like Outlander better." )  So, anyway, I'm not doing much of anything that I said I'd have more time to do once I was on vacation.

But maybe that's the point:  Do nothing.  Indulge in self-indulgence.  I'm eating healthy, meditating with the sound of the waves splashing the shoreline, languidly stretching in front of the open patio doors as the breeze off the Bay cools my skin; I'm enjoying walking through the gardens and along the beach, camera at the ready.  Maybe the idea is to let go of the self-improvement agenda, open my Kindle and just be.  Since I am a champion reader, people-watcher, and gazer into the horizon, I should really be in my element today.  I can out-sit Hub any day of the week.  Lame-ass loser?  Not me!

At least, that's the view from here....©

OLD FRIENDS AT THE BEACH

Well, I'm home from our annual Kauai hula with the palms.  So incredibly relaxing and just what I needed to reset myself back to: "Let's see if we can start over and not get so stressed about life this time."  Worth a try, and feels doable now, in the afterglow of a nearly perfect vacation.

We were super chill this trip.  We stayed at our timeshare Marriott resort on the ocean, which also boasts the largest pool on Kauai and acres of gardens and walking paths.  It's really beautiful.  And we barely left the property, except to take our morning walks along beachfront trails and extended walking paths that meander in a huge loop around the golf course.   I did some of that walking; Hub did it every day -- about 5 miles at each outing (overachiever that he is).   Other than that we claimed our lounge chairs on the lawn under the palms at the beach and camped out there for several hours each day.  Occasionally we strolled to the pool for a refreshing plunge, then back to the beach.  Hub did a lot of Boogie Boarding and I read a lot of books.  Ten.

When I told a friend that I read ten books in twelve days, she was a little surprised.  I had to quickly explain these were not the Great Russian novels.  They were more like a gathering of old friends, a reunion with bright, funny, inspiring, interesting people, both real and fictional.

I used to be a voracious reader.  I don't know precisely when that fell away, but sometime around peri-menopause and a full time job and corralling teenagers and caring for my ailing mother, I lost my ability to focus long enough to stick with a novel.  I was in a bookclub but after a while I realized I was going for the socializing and the great desserts, rarely even finishing the assigned book.  I was not a very lively contributor to the conversation -- about the book anyway.  Occasionally another woman and I would digress into People magazine reporting and trash TV updates, which was great fun and quite lively.  But that just demonstrates where my brain was at that time.

For the trip I took two paperbacks with me, but didn't want to pack any more than that, so I went on  the public library website to load ebooks onto my Kindle.  I love memoir and essay collections (go figure!) and given how stressed I've been I wanted to find some humor too.  And I'm always up for inspiring "self-help" books.  So here's my list:

NONFICTION
Ageless Body/Timeless Mind -- Deepak Chopra   A classic that's now 20 years old has been on my shelf, unread, for years.  But since I now would like to achieve both of these things, I decided to see what he had to say.  I love the sound of Deepak's voice -- deep and resonant with that lovely accent.  I do the daily meditations that he and Oprah post on online occasionally and I could almost "hear" him talking as I read.  The book is a bit dated, but still I found it inspiring and it helped me shift my perspective and find the peace I was seeking early in the trip.  And it fit with lots of the thinking I've been doing lately about healthy, natural aging.

Orange is the New Black -- Piper Kerman  This is the memoir upon which the hit Netflix show is based.  It's the tale of Piper's youthful flirtation with the drug world and how ten years later (after completely going legit and having a normal, happy, productive life) she is sent to prison for her earlier (relatively minor) involvement in a drug ring.  I watched the show for about half the first season and for some reason it didn't resonate with me then.  But the book is great!  Honest, insightful, sympathetic, terrifying, and quite the indictment of our prison system and over-zealous sentencing laws.  I came away with a new perspective and the urge to lobby for reform.   I'm also going to give the show another try.

Believer: My Forty Years in Politics -- David Alexrod  I'm sort of a political campaign junkie -- all the more so when the candidate is someone I so admire.  That would be Barack Obama.  Or "Almost God" as I like to call him.  David Alexrod was his Communications Director for the campaigns and also for a time in the White House.  Inside stories around public events in recent history are irresistible!  I relived my time growing up near Chicago too.  Alexrod also lived and worked there naming all the "big time" politicians of the day he worked with before he hooked up with Obama and his life took surrealistic spin into national politics.  Fascinating read, even if a little self-serving at times, but hey -- ya gotta have a little bit of ego to do his job.

Small Victories -- Anne Lamott  Oh, Anne, I love you so.  Her essays are so funny, so smart, so true, so inspiring.  I could read her forever and I actually have.  All of her books are on my home bookshelf and I get her regular Facebook post essays too.  Plus, she is my favorite Christian and she could also be my best friend.  We all feel that way.

Dad is Fat -- Jim Gaffigan  I LOVE to laugh out loud.  This book had me in tears of laughter.  I kept apologizing to Hub, next to me on his lounge chair trying to concentrate on the NYT crossword, but he said he loved the sound of my laughter.  Good thing.  This is a funny book by a well-known stand-up comedian about his NYC family life with five young children.  I kept thinking of Son One and his stories of life with his kids.  Son One is really funny too.  I'm getting this book for him for Father's Day.

Live Right and Find Happiness -- Dave Barry  Gaffigan only whetted my appetite for more humor.  I was reminded how much I used to enjoy reading Dave Barry's collections of columns from when he wrote for the Miami Herald.  But he quit that job and I sort of lost track of him.  Rediscovering him in this book, I realized he is remarried with a daughter now 14, and his son (who last I heard was nine years old!) is now grown, married, and has a son.  Oh, Dave, so great to read you again and to find you are still laugh-out-loud funny with your dead-on irony, school-boy silliness, and great big heart.

Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake -- Anna Quindlen  Another favorite from many years ago, Anna Quindlen wrote the story of my life about the "mom years", raising young children, as well as social and political commentary in her NYT column and later in a regular column in Newsweek.  Every word rang true then...and still does in this look at turning 60, her three children now grown, as she looks ahead to the eldering years of her life.  She and Anne Lamott -- my writing and age-mate heroes; wish I could say it as well -- maybe I'll change my name to AnnSomething.

Survival Lessons -- Alice Hoffman  I love, love, love, Alice Hoffman's fiction.  But again, I'd lost track of her when I basically stopped reading fiction and I got caught up with this very slim nonfiction work written shortly after her battle with breast cancer.  It's a series of reminders to appreciate all of life's simple blessings.

FICTION:
The Museum of Extraordinary Things -- Alice Hoffman  Since Alice was on my mind, I found this recent novel and was hooked again on all things Alice.  I love her evocative, slightly weird, a little skewed characters and settings.  This one was full of melancholy and hope -- as most of her books are -- and chock full of magical realism which is a favorite genre.  Loved it.

The Ice Queen -- Alice Hoffman  A strange one; not my favorite, but still interesting with the same bent to the unusual and magical in the lives of everyday folks.   Part prose, part poetry in form with an interesting premise, but characters uncharacteristically underdeveloped, I thought.

I think part of the wonderfulness of this trip was setting aside any real responsibilities, ditching schedules, appointments, meetings, and deadlines.  It was indulging my Introvert with days and days of sweet interaction with only my Hub and no one else other than a passing "hello".  I meditated, walked, read, lounged, ate lots of local fish and fruit, and got re-acquainted with old friends between the pages of books.  Yep, pretty near perfection.

At least, that's the view from here....©

A LONGING TO DRIFT

I had been awake about ten minutes this morning, still laying quietly and appreciating the blue sky view and sunshine streaming in our bedroom window when Hub rolled over, sleepy-eyed, and asked what my plans were for the day....

Plans?  At that moment, still in a dawn daze, it was as if he was speaking a language I didn't understand, but of course I knew immediately what he wanted to know.  What will our day look like, together or apart?  Busy or lazy?  Productive or sort of wasted?  He is a championship planner and after nearly 43 years of marriage, so am I.

But my preferred mode of transport through the day is a slow meander -- I call it drifting.  Unless I have something scheduled (which is a lot of the time, to my dismay, but much less frequently that I used to) I love just seeing what my mind and spirit have in store for me as long hours of a new day stretch before me.  There is a lot of this when Hub is away, but when he's home I feel some obligation to be more intentional with my time.  And as in any relationship there is the dance of negotiation and accommodation to another's rhythms.

As usual, I got up, dressed, headed downstairs for my first cup of coffee and a peek at email, online news, and Facebook.  It's my morning routine for waking up to the world.  Then I puttered 'round the kitchen, found an article I wanted from an old newspaper, did a few dishes.  I went to the laundry room and sorted clothes, threw a load in the washer.  Back in the kitchen I wondered what I might make for Family Dinner this week and put that thought on hold since I hate meal planning and cooking....."Later..."

My eyes fell on a new book of poetry by Billy Collins and I grabbed it off the desk and walked to the living room.  Looking out our big window I stood for several long minutes just taking in the view -- fog settled lazily over the river valley, mountains to the east and north peeking up through the mist, sun shining on the bay, a new ship in port stacked high with bright orange containers ready to offload onto rail cars.

My gaze drifting to the birds at my front yard feeders made me smile with the recollection of yesterday morning when Angel and I sat for at least 30 minutes in front of the window, Birds of the Northwest book in front of us (she calls it the Hummingbird Book), identifying as many feeder birds as we could.  She was so excited to find a bird in the book that matched one at the feeder -- Pine Siskens, House Wrens, Junco's, Spotted Towhees and, yes, Hummingbirds.   It was a moment in time that I will always treasure -- spontaneous and timeless.

Finally I opened Collins and settled in on the sofa, randomly flipping through the book to  delight in poem after poem, marveling at his skill with language and imagery.   I scolded myself for spending so much time on tasks and responsibilities and commitments and so relatively little on pursuing and honing creative pursuits.

But the attic needs to be cleaned and organized so I can finally put away the bins of Christmas decorations.  And the yard is a mess of twigs, dead leaves, and growing weeds as it comes awake after winter's wet gloom.  The floors need vacuuming, the toilets need scrubbing, and the ongoing tasks of the church Stewardship Steering Committee need to be prioritized every day for the next month or so.

With these thoughts pushing to the 'fore I got up, closed the poetry book and came to my office to write this post as a transition from my morning drift to the day's steady tick-tick-ticking away of minutes and hours spent in productive activity.  Tonight I'll look back at my to-do list with items crossed off and feel a sense of accomplishment.  But I'll also lament that my "drifting" time seems so short and, consequently, so precious.

At least, that's the view from here....

MURDER AND MAYHEM AT THE MARRIOTT

James Patterson, John Grisholm, Robert North Patterson, Sue Grafton, J.D. Robb, Lee Child....  Poolside reading of the mindless, page-turner variety, seems to lean toward murder and mayhem.  I have to include myself in this cohort -- I've been following the escapades of Jack Reacher and Eve Dallas myself.  (I should include Nicholas Sparks here, being read by one young woman who apparently enjoys the "murder of the novel" genre.)

But the greatest mystery to be solved is what is going on in the dark digital world of all those Kindles, I-Pads, and Smartphones!  It took several days of floating around the pool spying on the readers in lounge chairs to come up with the list above, which were actually few and far between.  Mostly I see people holding E-readers of various brand.  I have no idea what they are reading!  And that totally screws up the survey I have taken each year to determine "most popular" pop-literature.

Not long ago it was easy to see what was at the top of the paperback best seller list, because the majority of the poolside community were reading the same book!  The last time I found consensus was in the "Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" days.  Those bright yellow book covers were blinding in the Kaua'i sunshine!  Now we are all hiding in the digital world and who knows what's going on in there????  I hate to speculate...

The other "downside"of the digital reader age is the dearth of used paperbacks in the resort lending library.  We readers used to power through a stack of books on our trip, then leave them behind for others to enjoy.  No more.  I checked out the library the first day here and found a paltry selection of about 20 books, most of them titles no one has ever heard of, along with a couple of Harlequin romances, and a few religious tracts.  Humph!

I mourn the passing of vacations past, of holding a book in my hands, turning its pages, perhaps getting it a little waterlogged and then back home finding some sand in the seams along with memories of those windswept days of reading on the beaches of Hawaii.  I walk past my bookcases at home and the mere sight of some of those spines takes me back to another time in my life, remembering where (and who) I was when I read that book....

But I confess:  I now tote around an I-Pad and mostly download e-books from the library.  I no longer turn a page, I tap it.  I set the font for "large" and eye strain is relieved.  Instead of a suitcase full of bulky books, I have one device where I have thousands of books available at any given moment.  Yep, it's convenient.  And a little sad.

At least, that's the view from here....©

YA SPOT IT, YA GOT IT

Hub told me my last post, about the cruise ship crowd, was a bit "snarky".  Pshaw.  I wasn't even close to as snarky as I could have been.  Plus, we all know humor (or an attempt at it) is really ultimately at our own expense.  Ya spot it, ya got it...as in the points I made in that other post:  I am not so spry nor am I super thin; I used to both drink and smoke; I burn easily in the sun; I wear dorky clothes sometimes and I am among the least well-traveled people I know, hence "foreign" really is foreign to me.   Are we all  happy now?

So, let's try this -- a snarky post about me.

I suck at hiking.  I wrote about this last year in Kaua'i, too, so I won't go into detail.  Suffice to say, there may be beauty all around me, but I mostly stare at the ground when I'm moving, willing the death march to be over.  Yesterday, though, I was on one of my fave Kaua'i hikes (the one I like) and I wish I'd switched on my I-Phone video so I could post for you the Jurassic Park jungle beauty around me and the brilliant, varied, and beautiful birdsong that was the soundtrack.  Pretty amazing.

I also suck at water sports, except for my favorite, which is sitting at water's edge in the sand for a few minutes, until the sun becomes too intense and I scurry for the shade of a palm tree.  I have friends at home who are strongly encouraging me to try snorkeling.  They are full of gentle urging and handy tips -- float with a floaty Noodle under my chest; practice in the pool; get a tight-fitting mask...  Putting my face in the water on purpose feels like anti-survival.  I did not evolve with gills.  But I did work up the courage to stick my face in the water in the pool today and blow bubbles through my nose.  I held Hub's hand the whole time (5 seconds) and he cheered enthusiastically and offered "Good job!" congratulations.  I  am now on par with all the three-year-olds in my class.

I do not like to "party all night long".  It is our habit to leave our lounge chairs at around 5:00 and head for our unit.  I shower, throw on a loose fitting sundress, pour a Club Soda and watch the waves from our deck until Hub is ready to grill some fish for dinner.  He takes off to do that, while I prepare a salad (open the Costco container) and set the table.  Soon he is back with tales of grilling adventures from the courtyard, where he meets and talks to strangers.  We eat; I clean up; we each grab a book and lie back to read until we fall asleep.  Or, we might turn on the TV.  There are limited channels here, but we do get Comedy Central so our beloved Daily Show and Colbert Report are available.  We also brought some Netflix discs of Homeland with us, but dispensed with those within the first few days of our vacation.  Hub forgot to pack Game of Thrones, so we are currently at a DVD-watching handicap.

So, you see, one could make a snarky comment about how absolutely NO FUN I am.  But that depends on your perspective, right?  I make terrific fodder for writing snarky blog posts, which is EXTREME fun!

At least, that's the view from here....©

IF I'M HERE...CAN I ALSO BE THERE?

Here's a question I never thought to ask myself:  "When you are traveling, is it OK to read for pleasure?"  Like, wow.  When I am traveling, it never occurs to me NOT to read, for pleasure or any other reason.  Like a tourist brochure, local newspaper, or menu.  Whatever.  But most especially a novel or memoir or the latest non-fiction "fix me" tome.

But I get what my friend meant when she posed this question to herself and struggled with the answer.  And decided to survey her friends.  Those of us who are avid readers never leave home without a book in our bag, our car, or clutched in our hand.  For me a book is a lifeline, a safety blanket, a friend.  I sort of panic when I don't have something to read at the ready.  But she wondered if we are truly present on our travels, truly taking in all that surrounds us, when we are simultaneously (or intermittently) transported elsewhere inside the pages of a book.  Are we cheating ourselves of the full experience of our trip when we mentally escape into other settings as we read?

So, I thought about this question on my recent trip to Hawai'i.  I read 9 books and a few magazines and the occasional newspaper.  I should point out, these are not difficult reads.  These are beach reads, right?  Easy, breezy, fun, interesting, perhaps thought-provoking or poignant, but not rocket science.  For quite some time I've been enamored of memoir.  I LOVE to read about real people and what happened to them, what they learned; to discover if they are funny or insightful; hear about where they went and what they did there....it's probably the voyeur in me.  Or the part of me who lives vicariously through the exploits of others doing those things I could never imagine (or want to do) in my own life.

I'm also really drawn to humor.  Clever, ironic humor.  I'm a sucker for dry wit, for shining a light on absurdity, for looking askew at those characters, places, and events that make us scratch our heads in wonder.  And then laugh.

So, here's the reading list from my recent trip:

Rebel Buddha -- Dzogchen Ponlop  (Tibet, US)
     Non-fiction exploration of Western Buddhism (great book!)
Unfamiliar Fishes -- Sarah Vowell  (Hawai'i)
     Fascinating history of Hawai'i plus Sarah Vowell is really funny!
Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim -- David Sedaris  (North Carolina)
     One of my favorite humor writers; laugh out loud funny.
Among Flowers - Jamaica Kincaid  (Nepal)
     A trek through Nepal to find indigenous seeds for planting back home.  Did not like this book (the writing was uneven, the author's attitude smacked of colonialism), but the descriptions of the trek were sort of interesting, if sketchy.  I did learn she gets up to pee outside the tent nightly--a recurring scene.
The Wordy Shipmates -- Sarah Vowell  (Massachusetts)
     Loved Unfamiliar Fishes so much, I went back for more Sarah and this history of the Puritans in Massachusetts.  Very entertaining history.  More Sarah!  More Sarah!  Her history books should be read in high school classes!
Sh*t My Dad Says -- Justin Halpern (San Diego)
     A sweet homage to a gruff and loving father -- from his very funny son.
Kitchen Confidential -- Anthony Bourdain  (New York)
     The book that started Bad Boy Bourdain on the road to infamy on No Reservations.  He's a jerk and I love him.  Plus who can resist a 'behind the scenes' look at restaurants and the cooking life therein?  (Don't order fish on Mondays...or eat almost anything on a Sunday Brunch buffet table).
Wild -- Cheryl Strayed  (The Pacific Crest Trail wilderness)
     She's young, irresponsible, flirting with drug addiction and decides with no forethought at all to hike the Pacific Crest Trail from Southern California to Washington.  She learns a lot.  I ended up liking her.
The Beginner's Goodbye -- Anne Tyler  (Baltimore)
     One of my favorite novelists takes on love, grief, and moving on in this story of a physically challenged man who lives fully in his heart ... and body.
The Wolf Gift -- Anne Rice  (a wolf den somewhere perhaps)
    I started this, but quit it.  I do like Anne Rice's crazy gothic/modern vampires and witches and this one I think is about werewolves, but the plane landed before I really cared about where she was going with the story.  Maybe some other time....

So.  Book reviews aside, it's obvious that while I was in Hawai'i I was also in Tibet, Nepal, Massachusetts, New York, San Diego, Raleigh, Baltimore.  Only one book I read was actually set in Hawai'i.  So, while I was on the beach of Kaua'i, I was also in all these other places.  Still, I relished the unhurried, lazy days of diving deeply into books I enjoyed -- letting the story, the setting, the author take me on a pleasure cruise while the palms swayed overhead and the waves lapped at the shoreline.

Is that OK?  Well, I think so.

At least, that's the view from here....©