NOT MY VACATION

Here's a lesson learned:  Don't go on someone else's vacation.

Hub is an avid snowboarder.  Some might say an obsessive snowboarder.  I call his winter trips his "snowboard tour".  Totaling up his various trips, he's gone about 4 weeks between January and March.  This has become a bit of a point of contention with us over the years, for many reasons.  I think it's excessive.  He defends with the logic that it's a short season and he has to get a lot of slope days in within a short period of time. I stipulate that I am grateful he's in great shape and has a passion to pursue that brings him such satisfaction.  Sometimes he goes with a group of friends, many times he goes alone.  Until last year...

During one of our many talks about his snowboarding plans, he said I was welcome to come along on his solo trips.  Generally he has preferred to be with other snow enthusiasts or alone.  So, this seemed like a nice offer until I thought about where he goes and where he stays -- smaller "resorts" (basically small towns with a mountain) with nothing for me to do and he often sleeps in the camper.  Uh.  No thanks.  But we decided it would be fun for me to go along to a big resort, to stay in a luxe condo, and enjoy the ski resort apres ski festivities at the end of his snowboarding day.  

So last year we spent a week in Whistler, BC together and it was GREAT!  We both had lots of fun.  The Whistler/Blackcomb Village is large with lots to do -- shops, art galleries, restaurants, a gondola ride to the top where I met him for lunch, and just walking and walking for exercise.  There was a pool, sauna, gym.  Yes, very nice.  So we decided to make it an annual thing for me to go on one of his winter trips.  

This year we chose South Lake Tahoe with a stop in Ashland, Oregon on the way -- a town we have loved for years.  Driving can be challenging in the winter, but the two-day drive was mostly uneventful (traffic, of course, and a bit of glare ice and blowing snow at one stretch) except that I am a Nervous Nelly passenger and didn't have the confidence to drive on two-lane icy roads.  I was trapped in road anxiety much of the time.  I realize that road trips of 6-7 hours a day may be in my past.  I didn't enjoy that many hours in the car.  

Our first destination, Ashland, was fun.  He boarded Mt. Ashland and I wandered around town, full of nostalgia for our many visits there.  (It's a liberal oasis in "red" southern Oregon, home of the annual Shakespeare Festival every summer.  Touristy but not tacky, with a big lovely park in the middle of town to explore.)

At Tahoe our condo was bigger and nicer than I expected so I felt like I'd be very content there.  Hub took off for his first day on the slopes and I headed out to explore the Village.  It took about 20 minutes.  How many kitschy Tahoe emblazoned T-shirts and keychains, etc etc can one look at?  There were outdoor clothing stores for the ski/board crowd, a few alcohol-fueled over-priced restaurants, an ice skating rink (not my thing), and a Starbucks.  I went there.  Plus it was a chilly 8-degrees!

Back in the condo I did some yoga, read my books, crocheted, looked out the window, snacked.  Waited for Hub to return.  He did, late in the afternoon, with bad news.  He'd lost his phone on one of the runs.

Suffice to say, the week went downhill (haha) from there, for me anyway, and partly for him too.  Every day was the same for me.  Six hours of him on the mountain and me trying to not go stir crazy.  He'd come back after his mountain adventures, and we'd deal with the phone issue:  three trips to the Verizon store, hours on the phone with tech support, tracking the UPS delivery of his replacement phone.  We mostly ate in, watched a little TV, and repeated it all the next day.  He loved his days on the mountain, but the phone thing was a major distraction and frustration.  (The day before we left the replacement phone was finally working.)

We did spend a few quality hours together here and there over the week, but we both agreed that this is not a good idea.  Even in a nice resort, it's not MY vacation, it's his.  I don't like being cold, or doing snow sports, and over the years I've lived enough of the "lodge life" for it not to be romantic or cool anymore.  I don't know why I didn't foresee this.  

I was so ready to fly home, as we'd planned.  We drove back to Ashland for a night then I took a 1 hour and 22 minute flight from the nearby airport back home (instead of the 7 hour drive) while Hub had a 5 hour drive to his next mountain in northern Oregon where he met up with friends for another week of snowboarding.  Again, his daily calls/texts tell me he's having a great time.

Me too. I'm so glad to be home.  Lesson learned.

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

SOUTH CAROLINA VACATION PART 3: ADULT BEVERAGES AND FAMILY LOVE

It's not just in the South, I know.  But it sort of felt that way as I looked over the resort activities each day.  Drinking alcohol is a big thing. People like it.  People want it. People find it fun and carefree and necessary to having a good time.  I don't drink; it's like being perpetually relegated to the Kids Table.  

Here is a selection of activities that included alcohol: Sea Turtles and Tequila* (a nature talk with drinks); Oyster Roast with Wine Pairing*; Local Beer Tasting*; Mimosas To-Go*; Bags & Brews (corn hole tourney); Brew Yoga; Local Rum Tasting and Cocktail Demo; Wine & Cheese Social*; Arnold Palmers on the Porch*.   Starred (*) are the ones the adults in our family did; I went to some, sipping the usual non-alcoholic too sweet soda option, or just water, or I skipped the event and hung out with the kids.  

It's been almost 11 years since my last drink.  You'd think I'd be used to this "one of the kids" feeling by now, but I'm not.  In fact, it's become more isolating with time, to not be part of this ubiquitous social convention around which revolves so much not just joyful consumption, but conversation -- comparing vintages, brews, tastes.  Thankfully, no one in my family over-indulges, so I don't know why it bugs me. I just always wonder what the big attraction is.  But I'm in the minority for sure;  I realize I have some work to do around being a bit judge-y about the automatic assumption that every social gathering requires alcohol to be considered enjoyable.  Still, I secretly appreciate it when someone says "no thanks" to a drink.  I feel like I'm not so alone.  Plus, it feels like that person is making an intentional decision about what they drink, rather than a knee-jerk acquiescence to social conventions.  Anyway, I loved the Milk and Oreo Cookies event the grandkids and I went to.  I fit right in! LOL

To end this vacation recap, it's appropriate that I sit down to finish this series on Fathers Day morning.  Our sons and their families will be here this afternoon to celebrate together: Hub being a dad, Son One being a dad, and bugging Son Two to become a dad.  LOL   And I think back on all the family gatherings of my earlier life, before Hub and I moved away from our home state and before the rest of my family also scattered across the U.S. and before we lost so many to the inevitable "big move" -- death.  

My parents have died, as well as my only siblings, my two brothers, and this year my older brother's wife, my sister-in-law, also died.  My older brother's daughter,  my niece, and her family live in Arizona.  My younger brother's family, my sis-in-law, nephew, and niece and her family live in Georgia.  We have not all been in the same place together since my mom's memorial service in 2008.  It is decidedly strange to be the only living member of my original nuclear family.  It's lonely at times.  

I have a good friend who still has her siblings, the in-laws, all the nieces, nephews, their families, cousins and on and on living near enough to continue to share holidays and rites of passage together.  I envy that.  I realize that when I sit and reminisce, I have no one to fact check with, to laugh with over old times, to just remember a shared experience. Since I've known Hub since high school, he of course plays a big role in walks down memory lane, but his memories of my family life are different and truncated.  

Our family holidays and meaningful moments have mostly been just the four of us -- no extended family to share with, so our sons have not had the experience I did of so many fun and/or "boring" times celebrating a distant cousins' wedding, a great aunt and uncle's anniversary, a grandparent's repeated stories of life on the farm or whatever.  I am sad about that; it's a part of family life that for us was missing except for the annual summer trips back to Illinois for a week.  My sons' memories are of seeing extended family while on vacation -- not as a daily part of their lives.

So we were delighted to welcome our Savannah family to join us on Hilton Head.  One look at my sis-in-law and I was in tears.  First of all, I adore her.  I love this kind, determined, strong, funny, loving, no B.S. woman!  Like Hub, she knows my history at least going back to the 70's and that's getting to be a long time.  When we talk, we can talk in the shorthand of one who knew each other "when" -- through good times and bad, great haircuts and awful, weight fluctuations, stupid decisions, little apartments, cross-country moves, 80's shoulder pads.  We know about being parents and now grandparents.  We know what shared heartache and joy feel like.  We were there for a lot of the big stuff in each other's lives.

Her kids, my niece and nephew, joined us too, with my niece's husband and their kids.  I thought of the generations sitting around the picnic table, our son and my niece sharing their memories of childhood antics during our annual visits, their shared memories of grandma and grandpa, their sort of stunned disbelief that they now have children of their own sitting with us, the younger generation getting to know each other as cousins for the first time.  I had tears in my eyes almost constantly; I'm a sucker for this family connection stuff.  It means the world to me.  

We spent one whole day together early in our trip, then at the end my niece and her kids came for another day of hanging out at the pool.  The following day was travel day for us although on different flights and airports.  My niece invited Son One and his crew to spend the day at her house before their evening flight.  My son said that when they showed up there my sis-in-law and nephew were there as well and they spent the day together watching the kids play, continuing to reminisce, and then bidding a tearful, hugging goodbye to each other.  My son has a heart as tender as mine when it comes to family and I could hear in his voice the deep gratitude and emotion he felt at having had this time together.  There are always good intentions to see each other more often, but then work, school, responsibilities, obligations and the fact of living 3000 miles apart become the realities that thwart those good intentions.  I'm glad we had this -- and hope we can do it again.

And that's the story of our vacation.  I'm not sure it warranted a 3-part series, but since I write this blog not only to share life observations with others who may be able to relate, but also as a documentation of sorts for myself and my family, it seemed special enough to dwell on it a bit.  May we all create special times with those we love.  Cheers!🥛 

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

Family Silhouette Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com

SOUTH CAROLINA VACATION PART 2: SO GREAT...AND ALMOST ANOTHER E.R. VISIT!

If you read Part 1 you know our recent trip to Hilton Head, South Carolina didn't start out so swell.  I'm happy to report the rest of the trip was better than expected, but ended on another bit of a low note.  Such is life, huh?

So...where did I leave off?  Oh yes, we were waiting for Son One and his family to arrive at the resort on Hilton Head.  They did and it was great to welcome them!  

Frankly I had a wee bit of trepidation about a weeklong family vacation.  But then I have trepidation about a lot of things.  (I'm working on that.)  I tend to ruminate on all that could go wrong and try to mitigate it before it even happens.  It's exhausting.  By now I should know that my rumination and pre-problem solving does nothing to help and most of the time my fears never come to pass.  The things I don't see coming in a million years happen instead (Hub in the E.R.) and I then I realize that I deal with those things just fine, so go figure.  

Anyway, sometimes family togetherness gets tense.  There are the inevitable frustrations, compromises, misunderstandings, grumpiness....human stuff.  But I'm here to tell ya, NONE OF THAT HAPPENED!  Seriously!  Everyone was in good spirits; we were in almost 100% agreement on our joint activities; we had plenty of time together and ample time apart.  We even joyfully welcomed extended family from Savannah to join us for a day-long family reunion early on and got to see them again a week later as the vacation came to a close.  Whatever fretting I had done pre-trip was wasted time and energy.  (Note to self: knock it off!)

The weather was fabulous -- mid-upper 80's and sunny.  There were three swimming pools and the beach a 5 minute walk away.    The tree canopied courtyard area, which our villa overlooked, had a covered grilling/picnic area, a shuffleboard courts, table tennis, corn hole, foosball, a fire ring, and one of the pools nearby.  Where Son and fam had their villa (a 4 minute walk from ours) they overlooked the "kid" pool with a walk-in splash pool entrance and one of those enclosed twirly slides on the deep end.  Our 7 year old granddaughter started the week unsure of putting her face in the water and ended the week with a swim across the pool and diving down to retrieve pool toys on the bottom of the pool.   Proud moment.

The resort had daily activities, which was unexpected. One of my worries was "Will the kids be bored"?  "Will the adults"?  We all ended up loving planning which activities to do together each day!  Nature talks (sea turtles were nesting and we learned all about it!); birds of prey (with live owls!); stargazing (watched the moonrise over the Atlantic); various trivia games that both kids and adults could enjoy (our 12 yr old granddaughter won the Marvel Cinematic Universe contest and I'm sure would have won Harry Potter had we had time to go that day); Campfire S'mores and storytelling by the oceanside firepit; "Name that Tune" "Junk Food Bingo" and Disney trivia games at one of the pools; Milk & Cookies Oreo taste testing (who knew there were a dozen flavors of Oreos?!?).  We didn't make it to the popcorn bar, the ice cream sundaes and floats, tie-dye tees, guided beach strolls and bike trips and movie nights, and Civil War history, and various game tournaments in the courtyard and many other options.  As you can tell, there was no reason to be moping in the room making claims of "boredom"!  Nor was anyone staring at a cell phone to pass the time.

On top of that, one day we rented kayaks and hit the inland waterways through the marshlands paddling alongside dolphins leaping beside us, including a mama and her baby.  Afterward we had a creekside seafood lunch which featured so many oysters!

With so much to do on the resort grounds, we spent less time on the beach than I had anticipated.  Hub and I went for a daily 4 mile beach walk but as a family we didn't have many "just beach" days.  For me, there is zero shade and I'm not into baking all day on the hot sand exposing my poor white girl body to yet more skin-cancer rays.  Been there, done that, and still treating it!  But with only 2 days to go on the trip,  we declared a beach day.  We spread out on the sand, away from the most crowded part of the beach.  We were all eager to jump into the warm sea to frolic in the gentle rolling waves.  Hub and I had such pleasant memories of when we lived in South Carolina on the Isle of Palms where going to the beach and splashing in the ocean was a daily event.  We were excited to share that experience with our grandkids.  And we all were having such a great time, until....

Our 12 year old granddaughter suddenly started yelling for help.  Hub and I were on the beach and saw her making her way out of the water limping on one foot, crying.  We ran to help her, with her parents not far away in the water making their way to her as well.  She cried, "Something bit me!"  We assumed it was nothing...sometimes a little fish will take a nip.  But her foot was bleeding and she was obviously in great pain.  Her dad ran to get help while we tried to comfort her by elevating her foot and putting some ice on it.  WRONG!!!  The beach patrol immediately diagnosed a stingray "stinger" attack and said to get the foot down and apply the hottest compress we could to draw the venom out.  He had a hot pack with him, which he taped to her foot, but advised we get her back to the room to soak her foot in very, very hot water.  

That was no easy task.  We were quite a ways down the beach, away from the villas, and she was in no shape to walk.  Hub and our son got on either side of her and "fireman carried" her all the way -- about a 10 minute or so walk over the sand and through the resort grounds.  Our villa was closest so we got her there, seated on the side of the tub with her foot submerged in hot water. It took about an hour before she felt some relief, but by later that day she was walking around just fine, if a little sore and a bit traumatized.

During all the drama, of course I Googled stingray stings only to find that the Hilton Head E.R. sees about 200 patients a year for stingray attacks, especially during the season when they are most prevalent, May-June -- just when we were there!  A more severe attack would have required an E.R. visit but we determined there were no big spines in her foot; it was likely a glancing blow, but certainly enough to really, really hurt.  Now we know to do the "stingray shuffle" by dragging our feet through the sand so the stingrays can scurry away instead of getting stomped on by ignorant tourists jumping up and down in water like we were!

Vacations are made of many memories.  We made some good ones...and some that make a good story only after the fact.  

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

P.S. Stay tuned for Part 3 -- adult drinks and the sweet heart-space of family reunited.

SOUTH CAROLINA VACATION: PART 1

I'm cleaning off my desk today and have a little stack of tourist stuff from our recent vacation to South Carolina.  I realize I never wrote about this trip, which surprises me.  It deserves to be documented for starting out so poorly but ending up not being a disaster after all.

Hub and I arranged to take Son One and his family on this trip with us.  We chose a resort on Hilton Head where we had stayed a few years ago and thought it would be perfect for a family vacation and only an hour away from Savannah GA where my sis-in-law, nephew, and niece and her family all live.  Since Hub and I lived off the shore of Charleston S.C., on the Isle of Palms for two years in the early 80s, going there every so often also holds a nostalgic vibe for us.  Two years is not long, but it was a transformative time in our younger lives and made an outsized impact on us.  Anyway, he and I left a few days early to spend time in Charleston before heading to Hilton Head.  

Hub got up not feeling great on travel day.  He is generally a happy flyer (unlike me) and we had sprung for the upgraded seats that came with drinks, which he finds to be a nice perk.  He was pretty quiet at the airport, complaining of stomach ache.  On the flight he sat upright, rigid, not eating OR drinking OR interacting in any way -- just trying to endure the 5-1/2 hour flight, eyes closed.  

Off the plane we waited and waited for our luggage, realizing at long last that one suitcase was not gonna show up on the conveyor belt.  After checking with the airline, it was confirmed that bag was still in Seattle.  Damn.  Hub was miserable by this time and just wanted to get to the hotel, but we had to fill out lost luggage paperwork and still pickup our rental car.  

Once finally at the hotel, our assigned room with a great view reeked so strongly of chemical cleaner that we couldn't imagine sleeping in it.  The Marriott prides itself on "new enhanced cleaning technologies" (whatever that means) but that was ridiculous!  We trooped back to the front desk to request a different room, which took awhile to arrange since they were nearly full with the convention of an NFL security organization, everyone wearing team logos. We finally got a new room, with a crappy view, and two Queens instead of a King, but we were able to breathe.  Hub went straight to bed in agony.  I took the other bed feeling he'd sleep better alone.  (Or I would....but I didn't.)

Hub being ill is such a rare event that I was concerned.  He was obviously in pain, unable to get comfortable.  He tossed and turned for hours until at 4 a.m. he said he felt he should go to the E.R.  This was a startling turn of events.  Hub suggesting an E.R. visit made me think he was at death's door. We got dressed and I drove him to the Medical University of South Carolina (MUSC), where he had actually been on staff all those many years ago.  Deja Vu.  But this time he was the patient.  He suspected a bowel obstruction or pancreatitis.  I was too uninformed about the perils of those possible diagnoses to be as worried as I could have been...me with the diagnosed medical anxiety that turns me into a worst case scenario scaredy cat at the mere mention of a possible health issue.

No E.R. visit is fast or easy, so even though they were not busy, we were there for 5-1/2 hours.  Exams, tests, scans, waiting, waiting, waiting....  Finally we were told everything looked normal and nothing life-threatening was going on.  During the course of things, Hub had started to spontaneously feel a bit better; not great, but better, with less pain.  We don't know what caused his symptoms exactly.  Maybe something he ate, but it wasn't the classic puking/pooping food poisoning response.  It was just lots of pain and bloating, indicating blockage, but there was no blockage.  

He was discharged and we went back to the hotel to sleep most of the day, only venturing out to the deli at the Publix grocery store across the street to get him some nice bland chicken soup for supper.  On the way back we intercepted our lost suitcase being delivered to the hotel.  Our visit to Charleston was not as we'd planned but we were grateful he was not admitted with a serious illness.  Thirty-six hours into our trip things were finally looking up.

The next day we drove out to the Isle of Palms, past our old house, and took a walk on "our" beach, still so beautiful.  Then we headed to Hilton Head, 2-1/2 hours away, grateful we weren't still at MUSC fighting an infection, or worse.  We looked forward to welcoming our family to join us the next day with hope that a whole week together would be as much fun as it seemed it would be in our imaginations; one never knows.

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

ALOHA 2021

 

Aloha Greetings from Kauai!

Here we are into nearly our second full week on the island, with another week to go, and I'm still not totally acclimated to the "new normal".  

Last year, during the Covid Times, we didn't come of course.  We cancelled our trip and stayed locked in our house all spring, not having any idea that a whole year would pass before things started to feel even a little bit normal again.  Actually I'm convinced more and more that "normal" will be redefined for some time to come.  At any rate, Hawaii started letting visitors come back to the state but when we booked our stay in January it was with a wish rather than a guarantee.  We expected to have to cancel again.  Then came the vaccines (Hallelujia!) and Hawaii put a program in place to begin to welcome visitors if they passed a battery of physical and cognitive tests of will and patience to get the Golden Ticket in.

We had to register with Safe Hawaii online.  Then we had to schedule a particular type of Covid test (even if vaccinated) from a Hawaii-approved partner laboratory to ensure we got the results within 72 hours of flying.  (We passed dozens of not approved test sites before we got to an approved one 20 miles from our home). We had to register with the lab, then await them posting our test result (negative).  We had to pay them $175 per test, so before we got the test, we called our insurance to ensure we'd be reimbursed.  They said yes.  Then we had to fill out insurance forms and submit our request with a copy of the receipt.  We had to upload the negative result of the test to Safe Hawaii before leaving the ground in Seattle.  If the upload didn't work (ours didn't for some unknown reason; I followed the instructions to the letter!) we had to have a PDF print out of the result in hand to show at the airport.  Once we passed that hurdle we had to download a QR code on our phones at the Safe Hawaii website proving our negative Covid test status to show once we landed in Kauai and also at the car rental place, the resort, and any other place that might require seeing our test result to let us in.  Then we went to the beach. LOL

Speaking of car rentals...we had ours reserved since January and a good thing.  We have heard there are zero cars available to rent!  Last year, rental companies purged their inventory all across the US and people have taken to renting U-Hauls in some places to have something to drive! See?  Not normal.

Once here masks are required throughout Hawaii when indoors.  So we still mask up inside public spaces.  Once outside we take them off.  On, off, on, off.  Part of this, our home-away-from-home resort for 20+ years, has been sold to another company (no longer Marriott, now Royal Sonesta) but we still are Marriott time share owners, so our accommodations have not changed, but the "vibe" is different and I feel we've been shunted off to the side, but maybe that's just me resenting that we are no longer the valued guests we once were.  Hello, Ego. LOL

Also, the retail shops on the lower levels along the gardens are all gone.  My fave dress shop, Tropical Tantrum, is now the new Welcome Desk office for timeshare guests (having been evicted from the beautiful lobby now occupied by Royal Sonesta).  The jewelry store I never went in is an empty room behind dirty windows; the art gallery, car rental office, photography gallery -- all closed and empty.  There are no local craftspeople set up on the Terrace each morning.  No breakfast buffet on the Terrace either.  The two (over-priced) on-site restaurants are open only limited hours.   We don't mind so much because we grill every night but now there are only two grills for the entire resort (the third closed for social distancing) so the wait can be long.  We've learned to grill our fresh fish at 5:00 (a bit early for us) or 7:30 (in the dark), avoiding the prime dinner hour rush of long lines and people cooking huge hunks of red meat.  Ugh!

On the plus side -- no cruise ships are docking so our beach is not inundated with "boat people" or rowdy crew members several days a week.  It's a bit quieter -- no late night music from the bar down the beach or after-dark beach revelers.  The sun shines, the breezes blow, the waves crash, the night sky is awash with stars, the ocean water is warm, the pool is beautiful, our "spot" on the beach has been waiting for us every day. Hub has gotten better at riding the waves on his stand-up paddle board; I've read 4 books; hiking trails are not too crowded; our morning 4-5 mile walks are lovely and I've lost a bit more weight -- now at my lowest in decades.  (I'll write about this weight loss journey another time).   We are relaxed and content...it's truly a time of respite from responsibilities and obligations that come with the territory at home.  And a welcome celebration of traveling to another of our special places post-vaccine.

I notice that my gratitude for my life has grown deeper and more poignant since the Covid Times.  I am getting amazing clarity on what is truly important to me and my mindfulness of present moment is sharpened.  I have changed in some profound ways over the past couple of years of personal and societal challenge.  There is no room for taking anything for granted.  It's all a gift and appreciating every moment for the lessons we can learn, for the joy we can feel, for the love we can give and receive, for the effort we can make to create and preserve what is important to us is really all there is.  

I know, I know.  Easy for me to say from my perch on the lanai looking out at the beach and bay that is my view for three weeks.  Yet, we all have a view of some kind, something or someone we love, something we long for, something of beauty we appreciate now, something that provides meaning to our lives.

May we all find a "new normal" that sharpens the senses, deepens gratitude, and helps us grow in equanimity and peace.  

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

VACATION MUSING

 Continuing my vacation report:

NYC:  I  just love it.  I do.  All the people and skyscrapers and parks and shops and restaurants and activity and diversity and history....all of it. Of course, I am a tourist and I only inhabit the parts of Manhattan that feel safe and welcoming.  As with anywhere, life isn't a vacation and there are challenges and dangers lurking.  Still, my experiences have been positive.  Everyone is friendly and helpful and there is less stigma about mental illness because you can't tell the difference from folks talking to invisible friends from those talking through earpods on their concealed cell phones.  Win-Win!

As I said in the previous post we walked everywhere and saw a lot.  We spent nearly 5 hours just walking to and exploring Central Park before meeting friends for dinner near their apartment on the Upper East Side -- our first indoor restaurant in over a year -- had our temp checked on the way in and tables distanced and separated by plexiglass.   We went to Wall Street to see the Bull and, even better, Fearless Girl.  We went to Hudson Yards, Times Square, walked along the Hudson River Park, along the Highline Trail, to Little Italy and Chinatown, through Tribeca and Greenwich Village and Washington Square.  We saw City Hall and the Courthouse at the Southern District of New York where we hoped smart lawyers were hard at work on some overdue indictments.  Our hotel had a view of the Empire State Building and was close to Bryant Park where we sat people-watching over lunch from take-out stands in the park or from the Whole Foods across the street.  

We visited dozens of public restrooms! Here's my take on those:  not bad!  Someone is doing a good job there.  My only issue, and I offer this Random Acts of Kindness suggestion we should all follow: Leave a tail of fresh TP after you rip off your portion.  So exasperating to sit there spinning and spinning the roll inside those massive stainless steel cylinders trying to find the starting place!  I took to always leaving a fresh tail -- you're welcome.  

DC: I am a Democrat; a liberal; a progressive.  And I am patriotic.  Yes, my gauzy assumptions about our country and what I took to be true (from my privileged white girl perspective, who grew up in the Post-WWII and Cold War American supremacy years) has been good and disavowed over the past 5 years.  But put me in front of the White House and watch me sob like a baby.  

The fences around Lafayette Square, the White House behind barricades and fencing, the Capitol behind fencing, the Supreme Court and the Library of Congress behind fencing....it was all too much for this red, white, and blue lover of history and possibility.  But there you have it.  We have gone through a dark time and it's not over.  The January 6th insurrection was a talking point on the Hop on Hop Off Tour Bus narration we overheard as it passed by.  We visited all the war memorials and statues and monuments as if for the first time, marveling and grieving at what this country has wrought.  It's complicated.  

But DC is a beautiful city and still shines brightly with hope and determination.  We joined in the periphery of a huge march for immigration and citizenship rights and I felt the awesome power of people coming together to demand compassion and justice.  Even if those things are hard to come by these days, I didn't see anyone giving up and I was inspired to keep on.   Our democracy is on shaky ground these days from those who seek power over others rather than the equality of rights we are supposed to represent.   But America is still an ideal worth fighting for.  DC is a monument to that ideal.  

Virginia:  We took a water taxi cruise from DC to Alexandria VA.  We'd never been there.  Very lovely, very historic, very hot, very touristy -- at least where we were.   At one cross street we smelled a very strong odor of natural gas and noticed a cover over an underground access point so we called 911 to report a possible gas leak.  In short order two fire trucks arrived at the intersection presumably to check it out.  Of course we will never know the outcome, but we believe we likely saved Alexandria from a pipeline explosion disaster.  Again, you're welcome.

We also went to Arlington National Cemetery and took a tram tour (two of four people on the whole tram!  Covid Times means no tourists!)  We were able to get off and wander around a bit and came across this grave marker for John Paul Stevens.  But what really caught our eye was the addendum (even though she died first) of his wife.   I wonder if Mrs. Stevens pre-approved her epitaph?  I doubt it.  I told Hub I hope my gravesite will memorialize me as "Beautiful wife and yoga teacher".  That about sums it up, right?

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

HOMEWARD BOUND

I am not generally an eager traveler.  I like my home, my gardens, my friends, family, and familiar routine.  That's not to say I don't also enjoy visiting new places, having new experiences -- I just get a tad grumpy about the actual travel part of traveling (logistics of flights, cars, maps, lodging, food, etc) and dealing with changing landscapes over relatively short periods of time.  I like to settle in.

We are flying home today from a 12 day trip to South Carolina and Georgia.  It all started because we own some timeshare points, purchased in a fit of euphoria over the idea of traveling more after retirement (if not the reality, as it turns out.)  There is some complicated equation for figuring out the timeframe for using said points, and we find we often have some "left over" that we have to use or lose within a certain timeframe.  So, this trip was the result of finding we had extra points to use by year's end and then sitting down and deciding where to go to use them up.  We are frugal enough not to let these slip through our fingers unused!

I have family in Savannah.  My younger brother and his family had moved there from our home area in northern Illinois 13 years ago for his work.  We visited once for my niece's wedding 8 years ago and to celebrate my brother's what we thought was successful cancer treatment.  We went back again a few years later when that ugly cancer returned and claimed my brother's life.  We decided to visit under happier circumstances this time, so planned a visit that would include family time in Savannah, a stay on the Isle of Palms -- a barrier island along the Charleston SC coast where we used to live, then ending with several days on Hilton Head to use those points at a resort on the ocean.

We started on the Isle of Palms, staying in a VRBO home owned by former neighbors with whom we had been best of friends for the two years we lived on the island several lifetimes ago (1980-82).  We've been back a handful of times, so were aware of all the changes to our quiet little island, but this time we were amazed at the oceanfront mansions, expansion of the commercial area, the new "connector" bridge to the mainland that brought traffic and visitors over on a 4-lane highway.  It was no longer the quaint, laid-back burg we'd known.  Progress, I guess.   Still it was beautiful and we enjoyed reminiscing as we walked along the wide sandy beach and paddled a kayak around the Intercoastal Waterway, with a pod of dolphins accompanying us.

A day in the city of Charleston also surprised us with its changes, but the historic area remains gorgeous, the city itself way more cosmopolitan than when we lived there, full of outstanding restaurants and cultural events.

On to Savannah, we stayed in a Historic District hotel, from which we walked and walked, snapping photos of the grand old homes, the River Street tourist walk, and live-oak shaded squares and parks.  That area of Savannah really is beautiful and while we have a soft spot for our old home of Charleston, there is no denying the charms of the Savannah experience.

That said, we are in the Deep South and Civil War statues are not uncommon, with African-American residents sitting nearby on park benches, making me wonder what they must think of these monuments to a time when half the country banded together to fight for the continuation of slavery.  I admit to feeling a bit smug, as a northerner, that "we" won what the south calls "The War of Northern Aggression".

Family time was full of laughter, tears, reminiscing, and watching the Circle of Life unfold as the older generation shared stories and experiences with the next and next generations gathered.  I am sometimes sad that our little family is scattered across the country, but such is life.  Hub and I were the first to leave our Illinois homeland, and as others went their ways, we all said we'd visit each other often, but life, finances, and other priorities make it hard.  When we left, we vowed again to do better.

Today I sit overlooking the pool from our condo, all packed and anticipating being home tonight.  Hilton Head is a bit too Stepford-y for me; a little too planned and perfect.  But this is a beautiful property, a huge 2-bedroom condo, lots to do on site and lots to see and do around the island.  As is our way, we've mostly stayed put right here, taking long beach walks and even going into the warm, silky Atlantic waters so familiar from our time living down here.  Last night we sat on our balcony in the warm evening dusk, eating a big basket of peel and eat shrimp cooked with Old Bay seasoning, and it was like coming home to a time that was a turning point in our lives together.

We could have stayed in South Carolina back then; Hub was offered a job, but in spite of its beauty, our love of the beaches and ocean, there remained many things about the south that were challenging for us.  Some, we note, are still the same; some have changed for the better.  But our decision to head west, to the Seattle area, was the best possible choice for us.  We've made a life there, had careers, raised our family, created home and community that have uplifted and supported us through all of life's trials and joys.  Could that have happened here too?  I don't know.  It would be hard to be "us" here, I think...for sure we'd be in the Progressive Liberal minority!  But it's easy to be us as visitors, to spend time in a place we hold in memory and can still enjoy as travelers.

For now, though, I'm happy to be homeward bound.  Can't wait to get off that plane!

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

Photos:  Sunset over the Intercoastal Waterway, Isle of Palms, SC; The Battery Walk, historical area of downtown Charleston, overlooking Charleston Harbor where the first shots of the Civil War were fired by the Confederacy on the Union stronghold at Ft. Sumter; Live Oaks and Spanish moss in Forsythe Park, Savannah; wide sandy beach at our resort on Hilton Head.

AIRBORNE BIBLE STUDY

And so starts another Kauai vacation.  They all start the same, as is necessary, with a plane trip.  It's the part I really, really don't like.  Fear of turbulence, a little claustrophobia, a bunch of strangers in close proximity, and just general impatience with the whole process.  And that's after I'm actually on the plane.  The whole logistical nightmare of packing, making arrangements for our vacant house, getting to the airport, lugging stuff around, getting through TSA screening, waiting around at the gate...Ugh.  But yes, I am beyond fortunate to be able to take this annual tropical holiday, so grousing about it is a bit disingenuous.  I know.

I wonder, did you hear about the Boeing 737 Max 8 Lion Air crash in Indonesia last fall?  The thing started into a dive just after take off  and boom...into the ocean.  They concluded there was some pilot error issue and everyone is sorry.  Then last week the exact same thing happened with a flight in Ethiopia.  Same result.  Same sorry.  But crack investigative reporters scratched their heads and said, "Hmmm...is this a pattern?"  And an open source log of similar reports was discovered from pilots from even within the United States (lest you think you can excuse the problem by pointing fingers at  those 'foreign pilots').  Their planes also took a dive and they had to switch off the auto pilot software and pull the nose up manually.  Scary stuff; still could be pilot error due to inadequate training, but what about that software???    I leave that to the experts but it was especially unsettling to hear nonstop reporting on this story on the radio during the one hour drive to the airport while trying to get morning rush hour traffic updates around the edges of the news.

Hub and I both like aisle seats so we generally sit across the aisle from each other.  I am not a chatty flyer, since all my concentration goes into keeping my anxiety disorder under control, so the few words we say to each other can be said across the narrow aisle.  But that also means I sit next a stranger in the middle seat next to me.  This time it was the woman of a couple who were on their way to meet their adult children for a family vacation.

They were very friendly.  I saw photos of their home in Alaska and of their new grand baby and of kids on the snow-covered playground of the school where she taught.  They both had books on their laps and we talked a bit about real books vs Kindle.  The woman shared that these days even in church, people pull out their phones to read the Bible!  She was fairly scandalized about this breach in church etiquette, allowing that really those people could be looking at anything, and who would know?  But she said the preacher's wife also did this, so she seemed to feel that was some kind of exoneration.  I thought maybe the preacher's wife was onto a way to get by with a little Pinterest study during the sermon.

We bonded a bit because we both admitted to hating to fly and I noticed her husband reached over and held her hand during takeoff which I thought was very sweet.  They looked "older" in that way some people can look just like my great aunt looked from about 40-80 years old.  Ageless in a weird way.  They wore sensible shoes and vaguely outdoorsy clothing, as if they were ready to be dropped into the bush on a missionary assignment at a moment's notice.  Her short, styleless hair would not be a bother should she need to bathe in a muddy river for a year or so.  After initial pleasantries,  I put my headphones on and that pretty much shuts people up who are inclined to chat away during the trip.

About half way through the flight the pilot announced, clear as a bell, (with none of the usual static -garbled early announcement I actually want to hear, like how long is this gonna take and is it going to be a smooth flight?) that we were in for some turbulence and we should all buckle our seatbelts right away.  I never like these warnings.   My anxiety goes berserk thinking it must be really bad if they have to warn us!   Every little bump makes me wonder if this is the beginnings of the hellish ordeal sure to befall our airborne community in a can.

I glanced over at my seat mates.  She had gotten her Bible out.  Good sign or bad?  It had a well worn blue cloth dustcover.  Daily usage; well-traveled.  She also had a workbook open, the cover of which I spied:  Psalms.  There appeared to be short essay questions on each page.  She would read for a bit, ponder, and flip open the Bible.  It was the red word edition where Jesus' uttering are helpfully highlighted for ease of cutting to the Christ parts I guess.   "Verily I say unto you...."  But isn't Psalms in the Old Testament?  Hmmm... Must have been a compare and contrast open book test.

I am impressed she wrote her answers in ballpoint pen.  She was just that confident of her mad Bible verse skills.  I started to wonder if she's show-offy like that at church too....her with the old school paper page (or papyrus!) Bible.

All of this was a nice distraction while waiting for the turbulence we'd been warned about, but about 40 minutes later, with no explanation whatsoever, the seatbelt sign dinged off and we had had not one iota of turbulence.  This sort of made me worry even more...they really don't have a clue, do they?

Or maybe Jesus intervened thanks to my seat partner's studious attention to his red words.  Just glad we didn't wander into 23rd Psalm territory.  I do not like the "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death" part...especially when I'm on an airplane.

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

Photo Credit:  www.pixabay.com

SKIP TO THE LOO

I just got back from five weeks of travel in England, Scotland, and Wales.  I'll have plenty to write about for awhile, but let's start with the restrooms.

Between the tours we took, and the time on our own in London, I believe I visited most of the public restrooms in Great Britain.

First, never call them "restrooms".  If you do, people may do their best to accommodate you by referring you to a place that lets rooms with a bed -- to rest upon.  What we euphemistically call "restrooms", the Brits call out in plain language, "toilets".   It is perfectly polite to inquire, "Where's the toilet?"  Signs everywhere show the way to the Gents and Ladies TOILET.  If you want to be fancy, you can say lavatory, which has been charmingly shortened to "loo".  Our Scotland tour guide would assure us that at several points throughout any given day we'd have ample opportunity on our stops to "Skip to the Loo".

In the US it is sort of a crap shoot (hahahahaha) as to the cleanliness of any given facility.  Not so in Britain, at least in the places I visited which were mostly touristy spots, but still.  They could easily have become degenerate given the high volume traffic they accommodate, but almost without exception they were sparkling clean and fresh-smelling.  The glaring exceptions were one Starbucks and one McDonald's where Hub and I used the facilities in a pinch.  I don't know what that says, or maybe I do.  These are American establishments.  We need to clean up our act!

The British loos were well-maintained, well lit, clean, and sanitary.  There were none of those fastidious paper toilet seat covers, but I never felt I shouldn't put bum skin to seat anyway.  And if I did (hello Starbucks) I merely did the squat and hover thing women have learned to do, and was grateful for my exercise routine that keeps my thighs muscular and my balance steady.

What I loved most about the stalls was how private they were.  None of those open at the top and bottom doors that barely offer a private moment; these were like little rooms!  Full doors that when closed provided a cozy toilet room with no one peaking under or potentially over.  How did you know if they were occupied?  When you closed the always working, never broken latch, the outside showed a red indicator; available showed green.  (Like we see on those gross port-a-potties here.)

Hand washing was a bit of risk, however.  I never learned why but the hot water tap is turned up to boil all over Britain.  Signs warning of VERY HOT WATER were to be taken seriously.  So if you go, be sure to be cautious and get some cold water mixed in, which can be a bit of a chore given that there is often a two faucet set up -- one for scalding hot and one for icy cold.  Many, thankfully, were a one faucet (automatic sensor) set up that provided water that didn't take your skin off.  Another thing that keeps the loos cleaner is that I almost never saw a paper towel dispenser anywhere.  All hand drying is done with those blow drier things on the walls.  I generally get impatient with those and end up wiping my wet hands on my pants, but they did cut down on waste and clutter.

The photo I'm including is from probably the best public toilet, but not by much.  Most were great.  This one is from the Tower of London just outside the Royal Crown Jewels exhibit, so they have a high standard to meet.  You will note that this one has a bit less than the fully enclosed toilet room I described above, but still pretty private and very stylish.

I had hoped to get shots of more loos, but most of the time they were jammed with other tourists, and whipping out a camera would have just seemed creepy.

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

A LONG, STRANGE TRIP

I'm writing this on Monday from sunny Kauai.  We fly home Friday after 17 days here.  This weather map is from home.  Naturally.

This has been a strange April trip for our annual Kauai vacation.  We arrived on April 10 to clouds and "chilly" winds which continued for the first week we were here.  Torrential, record-breaking rain hit parts of the island (thankfully not so much where we are); mostly up on the North Shore around Hanalei.  Nearly 30 inches of rain in 24 hours.  Massive flooding and landslides; it was declared an official Disaster Area, with evacuations and National Guard and Red Cross presence.  Roads are still closed up there and predicted to be for another two weeks.  I love Hanalei and feel so sad and sorry for the people there.

The worst we endured was me driving us in a torrent on our way home from a visit to Kauai Coffee and Kauai Brewing southwest of where we are staying.  Traffic was backed up for miles as rivers of mud and rain flowed down hillsides and along the roadsides; a downed tree blocked one lane.

Given the inclement weather, we didn't feel like going anywhere so for several days we just hunkered down here in our long sleeves and hung out at the beach a bit and in the room a lot. Hub worked on the Men's Retreat program he's leading for our old church and I read.  And read.  And read.

Hub was also stymied from taking his new Stand Up Paddle Board out after giving it a go for the first few cloudy days.  Once the torrent hit, there was a Brown Water Alert to stay out of standing water, rivers, ponds, and ocean areas fed by rivers or streams -- as our Kalapaki Bay is.  You could see the brown water throughout the bay -- a toxic slew of runoff from pastures, overflowing cesspools and septics, toxic goo from wherever toxic goo accumulates.  YUK!  It's the first time in 20 years we haven't seen anyone, tourists or locals, in the water here.

Also, as I noted in my previous post, the pool here has been freezing (for me and others) cold.  Broken heater and no sun for solar warming.  It's improving by now, so hoping for a few days of pool time before we head home on Friday.

Hub goes for his morning walks, I come here to the Terrace or sit on our room balcony to scroll FB and write, and often go on a walk around the grounds here through the gardens and along the beach.  Then we have papaya, mango, apple bananas for breakfast and head for our beach chairs.  Hub takes the paddle board out several times throughout the day.  I read.  And read.  And read.

Here's the thing.  I'm both a bit tired of my familiar surroundings this trip, and also completely content to just stay here instead of going to other places on the island, that are also very familiar, just to be going somewhere.  It is absolutely lovely here and I have everything I need and want.  So, I'm not sure where this antsy, restless, inertia is coming from.  I'm wondering if we need to choose a different vacation next year, and then I feel sad to think we might not come back.  Ambivalence reigns within me.

But the good news is that the sun has returned!  The past two days have been spectacular and I'm back to chasing shade all day and slathering on more and more sunscreen to keep my dermatologist happy.  The breezes are gentle and refreshing and the rain comes only during the nights -- as it should.

Just the same, I'm starting to think about home and eager to get my garden planted, check on my spring blooming azaleas and rhodies, see the new views after the across the street neighbors had some trees taken down....so I checked the weather report from home and found the temps will plummet 20 degrees just as we arrive and rain will return to what has already been a very soggy spring.  I'll wish I was back here.

I'd better get crackin' on my gratitude practice.  I'm too busy wanting something other than what I have -- a sure sign of something agitating for change within me.  I wonder what's coming?

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

TROUBLE IN PARADISE

Hmmm....is one allowed to be melancholy in Paradise?  I don't think so, and yet...here I am.

Day Three of the annual Kauai vacation and it's yet to be sunny for more than 10 minutes at a time.  At least the mist and drizzle and showers held off today.  It was cloudy and muggy.  I had so looked forward to a respite from the Northwest gloom here -- radiant sunshine, cooling dips in the pool, gentle breezes under the palms.  Mostly it feels silly to slather on the sunscreen, pull my lounge chair under a sheltering ironwood to keep the rain mostly off me, just to read a book.  I went in the pool yesterday and the water took my breath for a minute. Not refreshing...more like frigid.  But I'm a total cool water wimp.  Get that temp up to 80 something and I'm happy.

On top of that, or perhaps because I have nothing else to distract me, I'm noticing I'm not young anymore.  I don't mind being not young.  I like being older.  But I've been gobsmacked with some realities that are unsettling.  I wrote last month about my annoyance that all aches and pains are attributed to age at a certain point in time.  I also acknowledged that the cumulative effect of one thing after another is rather tiresome -- and worrisome.

I've still got that foot thing going on.  Plantar Fasciitis.  Oddly, my heel doesn't hurt that much when I am walking, but hours later when I'm just sitting around watching the TV, my heel area goes into full freak out mode with a regular painful throb and the occasional breathtaking stab of pain as if someone has taken a shiv to my foot.  Yowl!  Last night I resorted to extra meds just so I could sleep.

Hub is beyond frustrated with my non-compliance around his prescription of what seems to me to be excessive amounts of Aleve and Tylenol, but which he assures me is the therapeutic dose.  Maybe so, but I'm convinced I'll have kidney failure by morning with all that in my system.  This is an ongoing problem for us.  I know he's a doctor; I know he knows what he's talking about.  I love when he can diagnose and give advice to our friends.  I'm proud of him and his knowledge.  But when it comes to me, I just see that 17 year old brainiac quarterback I dated in high school who mostly was trying to, well, you know...."get to know me better".

But he is a real doc and today when I showed  him a "weird thing going on" with my range of motion in my left leg, he actually grew concerned, did a quick exam and declared I should get a hip x-ray.  WTH?  I don't know what to make of that, but sure, I guess.  Why not?  My eyes blur when I read,  my knee is crunchy, my tinnitus seems worse, my foot throbs...let's throw in some hip issue too.     THIS is the part of growing older I don't like --- the piling on of physical woes and the tiresome need to attend to it all with remedies that fix one thing while causing some malfunction elsewhere.

Also, I believe I've run out of time to be beautiful.  I see women on the beach -- in their 30's, 40's, 50's -- tanned and toned, lovely features, great hair, rockin' bods.  I try to be objective, but I know that was never me and never will be.  I was skinny once, but lily white and covered in freckles (still white and freckled and blotched and bulged).   I was heavier for awhile... and I've been creeping up there again.  I feel fine until I see myself while passing the hall of mirrors leading to the exit to the beach (cruel mirror placement),  then I get startled by how far afield my fantasy of me is from the reality.  Today as I lay back on my chaise, I thought I'd do a quick selfie.  OMG!  All I could see was jowls, double chins, and ponderous breasts!

Well, I'm sure all of this negative self-assessment will pass with the clearing of the clouds.  It's hard to look out at the slate gray skies reflected in the slate gray waters of the Pacific and not wonder if staying home fully clothed might have been the better choice.  Aloha.

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

P.S.  Upon re-reading, I get that this is a very whiny post.  Grousing about clouds in Hawaii?  Whining about an achy foot?  Jealously eyeing women and like a 16 y/o thinking I'm not as pretty?  Oh well...this blog is me, warts and all.  (NO!  I don't really have any warts!) ©

REEL LIFE AND REAL LIFE

On our Kauai vacation, I posted photos to my Facebook page almost every day.  Some people love to see others' vacation pictures (I DO!) and others do not (so "hide" me then), but I post mostly to feel not so far away from my friends and family.  I love seeing what they are up to and I assume they might feel the same about me.  I think Facebook is an interactive medium, so much so that if I'm FB friends with people who never "like", comment, or post, I unfriend them.  Why have people hanging around watching my life unfold without any commitment on their part to reciprocate or participate?

Anyway....on one post of the vacation a friend of mine said Hub and I looked like "poster kids for living the good life in retirement".  And I replied, "Remember, FB is 99% highlight reel!"  And it is. Some folks post about life's challenges, but not very often.  Most posts have a positive intention; a happy face or an educational and/or inspirational message.  Photos are usually framed to best effect and selfies can be taken over and over to get the best pose.

So, in the interest of revealing the "real" behind the "reel" let me list the ways in which the vacation was NOT the tropical perfection it might have appeared to be:

1.  Packing.  I do not like packing and I tend to pack really light.  Too light this time.  I got really sick of my clothes.  I keep notes year to year and my notes said to bring less this year, so I did. But I forgot to factor that last year we were there for 11 days and this year we stayed 16 days.  It made a difference.

2.  Flying to get to/from Hawaii.  Hate it.  Hate every single thing about it, starting with the drive to the airport.

3.  Clouds, wind, rain.  OK, it was warm even when it was cool.  You know, that stuff is relative.  I haven't had that warm breeze on bare skin feeling since last July.  But a couple days the clouds didn't lift and mist and showers and wind made for less than ideal beach weather.  In my mind I always picture blue sky, sunshine, and long, cooling dips in the pool. (Kauai is the "Garden Isle" for a reason -- it rains.)

4.  Somewhat cramped quarters.  Our timeshare is a "hotel conversion" meaning the units used to be hotel rooms.  They remodeled to include small kitchenettes with a sink, microwave, and small 'fridge, but basically it's a one-room studio apartment,  which feels smaller the more our stuff gets strewn about.  Also we have to make umpteen trips to the store for supplies due to sparse storage space.  BUT, we have an oceanfront view that is to die for.  Trade-offs.

5.  Costco trips.  I do not like grocery shopping.  Hub does most of it at home, but in Kauai it seems we combine the Costco runs with other outings so I am generally there every 2-3 days to buy more fresh fish, salads, yogurt, etc.  Our staples.  (See dearth of storage space above.)

6.  Lugging.  We could pay for valet parking and lugging assistance, but we, like 99% of guests, don't do that.  We park in the big lot and schlep our stuff from our unit to the lot (or vice verse) which my handy Fitbit tells me is 1/3 mile one-way.  This means anything we take on outings, we lug.  We lug groceries.  We lug snorkel gear.  We drag suitcases.  I tell myself "more steps!" on the daily count, but sometimes, well, I'd just like it all to be a bit more convenient, cuz it sucks to forget something in the room and have to go back.

7.  Noisy neighbors.  Generally the people here are pretty quiet.  But we had a trio of women next door to us part of the time who seemed to be on a bender of general LOUD hilarity, starting around 7 a.m.   One of them leaned over her railing one evening, drink in hand, to inform me (as I sat quietly reading on our balcony) that they left their husbands home and were here for a good time.  OK, I get that.  But not all of us have a good time at such high decibels!  With everyone having their doors open to the ocean and breeze, voices and raucous laughter carry. The walls are well insulated for sound, but we could still hear them through our adjoining wall, which is rarely the case,  so we knew they were louder than the general population.  Annoying.  The older I get the quieter I like it.

8.  People.  My introvert needs alone time.  But I didn't come to Hawaii to sit in my room.  So I have to mingle with people, observing if not actually interacting.  I already wrote about the day I saw a wife berating her husband publicly.  I also had to witness a mom repeatedly smacking her 4 year old little boy in the chest with a half-empty plastic water bottle admonishing him to "stop crying" -- the logic of which has never made sense to me, not to mention the heartbreak I felt at this scene of "discipline", which in my mind is abuse.  This kind of thing sticks with me, being the highly sensitive person I am.  (I saw lots of loving families and lovely people too.  Aloha-Spirit prevailed, mostly.)

9.  Nighttime adjustments.  Not my bed.  Not my bedroom.  I couldn't ever get totally comfortable in the bed and fought with the pillow.  I was either too hot (with door open to night air) or too cold (with AC blowing on me).  It was a bit noisy with door open (crashing waves, cars in the distance, people's voices as they walked by, roosters crowing all night long) or with door closed (AC fan starting and stopping).  The built-in nightlight in the bathroom was too bright, so I had to close the bathroom door.  The peepholes in the door seemed to create a laser light effect shining the hall light directly into my eyes as I lay in bed.  The WiFi router flashed a green light all night on the wall.  What's up with all that light???  We all have our idiosyncrasies (me = light and noise) which get amplified away from home.

10.  Homesick.  This time I actually did better than usual.  But there were a few days (the two when I was not feeling well and spent all morning in bed, especially) when I just wanted to be home in my own space.  I thought of my friends and family every day and was so thankful for texts and FB to keep me connected.  I missed my yoga studio, my coffee with friends, our family dinners, hugging my grandgirls.

So, yeah.  I realize how absolutely fortunate I am to be able to travel and to take this annual trip to Hawaii.  I appreciate it with all my heart.  But it's not perfect.  Nothing is.  Beware the highlight reel; there is real behind the camera.

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

REVIEWING VACATION INTENTIONS

Well, the annual Kaua'i vacation for 2017 is winding down.  One of my intentions was to find sun and warmth.  I did.  And grateful every single day for it.  I read yesterday that the Puget Sound area set a new record for rain over the past 6 months,  just over 44 inches, which is more than our average annually.  So, it's not all been in my head; we've had a lot of rain at home.  During our stay here a few days were overcast; one cool and rainy all day.  It's not called the "Garden Isle" for nothing.  Sometimes it rains...and gives us the lush green garden of floral delights because of it.

Another intention was to find balance and peace about the political situation.  I made progress.  I am feeling more able to take action and then let myself rest.  I am still appalled; still angry; still sad.  But reality is reality.

I'm following Elizabeth Cronise McLaughlin on Facebook.  She does an almost daily FB Live video, deconstructing the news of the day; explaining behind-the-scenes machinations; keeping her followers focused and motivated.  Yesterday she talked about "kicking the shit out of Option B", based on a quote from Sheryl Sandberg's book, "Option B --  Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, Finding Joy", written after her husband died.   Option A (Hillary being president) is not available to us, so we need to kick the shit out of Option B -- resist this Administration's policies that are destructive and hold them accountable, and vision what we want for the future.

I'm also finding great solace in watching Rachel Maddow every night, because she's brilliant and fair and funny.  But I find it's too much to watch all the talking heads and read every news/opinion piece and watch every satire comedy show...saturation point far exceeded.  Balance and discernment.  Just say no.

I've stepped up my meditation practice too, since this trip coincided with another of the Oprah/Deepak 21 Day Meditation series.  This one is on "hope" and I have to believe this was very intentional.  They talk about finding hope in challenging times.  I guess that could be any time for any number of people, but it's definitely now for many of us too.

I wanted to feel healthy and strong and I've had mixed results there.  I've eaten healthy thanks to Hub, who has cheerfully grilled fresh fish and veggies for us every night. Hawaii's bounty of papaya, mango, and apple bananas with yogurt has nourished us each morning and complementary coffee and tea all day has kept us hydrated.  We did do a slight ice cream binge.  My vices are so few these days, I've decided I don't need to scold myself for that.

I have slacked off on my yoga practice, but we have done qigong together (wrote about that on my yoga blog, if you want to check it out:   http://circlingthemat.blogspot.com/2017/04/pushing-back-waves.html  Hub has gone for a 3.5 mile walk every morning.  I went once.  I still totally suck at discipling myself to do aerobic exercise, except in my Friday Fitness class, which is really fun.  So back to that next week!

I wanted to write and yes, the muse has been with me.  It is such a luxury to set aside all the to-do lists, commitments, appointments, schedules and just move through the day at a lazy pace, with nothing to do and nowhere to go.  When I've felt moved to write, I did.  When I wanted to sit quietly, I did.  When I wanted to read, I did.  All of this feeds my Writing Genie and she's been with me, prompting and smiling.

So, homeward bound we are and I'm ready to be in my familiar places, seeing my friends, hugging my family, planting my garden.  Hanging on to the peace and tranquility of vacation time is always the challenge.  But I have to believe a time out of the routine works some magic even when we find ourselves caught up again in the abundance of "real life".

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

KAUAI PEOPLE-WATCHING, GRATITUDE, RE-SET

We're baaaack.  Our annual Kauai vacation.  Home sweet, warm, sunny, beautiful home.  I haven't looked back at old posts, but I'm sure I've posted a photo like this before.  I never get over how beautiful it is.

I'm sitting on Aupaka Terrace, where coffee and "grab and go" (ridiculously overpriced) breakfast is served, overlooking the pool and beach.  Families on spring break pass by loaded down with pool toys, snorkel gear, backpacks, and towels.  Retired folk amble along often gathering in groups at large tables sharing coffee and conversation, no particular place they need or want to be but right here.  Company employees (this week a group from Google!), dressed in Aloha shirts and sundresses, smile and chat with cell phones in their hands and notebooks tucked under their arms.  Every single head swivels towards this view.  How can we not look and feel so incredibly grateful for our good fortune?

OOOPPPPS!  Not everyone is feeling grateful.  There is a family of four (husband, wife, two middle school-ish aged kiddos) sitting near me and the wife is having an absolute hissy fit!  Teeth clenched, arms waving, voice raised (but I can't make out the words) aiming wrath at her husband who sits slumped, taking it in silence, even when she moves in about 6 inches from his face with a final diatribe.  The daughter sits still as stone, staring outward, the son hunches over a crossword puzzle, not looking up. They've obviously seen this all before.  Such scenes of family strife always make me sad.  My empath goes into hyper-mode and I want to walk over there and save everyone.  But I sit here typing away, trying to tamp down my God Complex.  I can't save them.  Mom and daughter have walked away.  Dad and son sit silently, reading and writing, not talking, not looking up.  And it's only 9:30 a.m.  Long day ahead, methinks.

Hub is out for his morning walk.  I always have good intentions of joining him, but this terrace calls me.  I love the people watching (even if sometimes I have to witness what I just did) and I love the pool view and I love the proximity to the coffee bar and I love that WiFi that allows me to open my computer and scroll through my emails, my FB newsfeed, and my blog.  When he returns we'll head back up to our condo unit for breakfast, then to our chairs near the beach where we'll read, do the NYT crossword, wander to the pool to cool off or hop in the surf (more Hub's thing than mine if there are some good boogie boarding waves).  We may go up again later for lunch, then back down for more of the same until about 5:00 when we pack it in for the day; time to shower, prepare our fish for grilling, eat dinner and switch on the TV or open another book until we get sleepy.  It's a rough life.

Sometimes, even though I love it here, I am ambivalent about coming.  I have to endure flying for one thing, which I've well-documented previously how much I hate.  This time we fought, according to the flight crew, the strongest headwinds they'd ever experienced causing our flight to take nearly 7 hours from Seattle, some of it in "choppy" skies.  I tried not to think about that deep blue enormous Pacific Ocean below us.  I took extra Dramamine, so I was in a drug-induced state of "calm" mostly but still had to meditate and breathe my way out of panic a couple of times.  Also a young couple with a 20 month old son were my seat mates.  In fact the whole plane seemed to be full of toddlers.  Always such happy fliers, they. HaHa

But this time I wasn't ambivalent; I was eager to be here.  Our NW winter/spring has been an interminable marathon of gray skies and rain.  I was starting to wonder if the sun still shone.  (It does!)  Plus, the political landscape since November has kept me under a dark emotional cloud too.  I felt I needed this respite as a reset.  My intention is to find my center again; to get focused, balanced, and reinvigorated about life.  I'll keep you posted.

OMG.  Dad and son just got up from their chairs, exchanged a few words, and Dad reached over and pulled his son (a gangly 14 y/o, I'd say) toward him and gave him a kiss on the side of his head, which I thought was a particularly sweet gesture, given and received between males in public.   The boy smiled and they walked away together.  Saving each other, without me.

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

RANDOM THOUGHTS ON A RAINY DAY

MY FRIEND IS A GIFTED PIANIST.  She used to play for the church we attended, for local high school theater productions, and has given piano lessons to children and adults for decades.  Me included.  I took lessons at the same time as Son Two when he was very young, just to get him started.  I absolutely love piano music and have a passion for listening and watching others play.  I wanted to learn.  Well.  Just like the current president and his surprise about the complications of delivering health care to the masses, I had no idea playing the piano could be so complicated!  To do it well you actually have to use BOTH hands!  Nine months of struggle was enough for me, so I went back to appreciating the talents of others.  As for my friend, arthritis has slowed her a bit, but one wouldn't know it.  I could listen to her for hours....and am.  Today.  I have two of her CDs and they are exquisite.  Perfect for a gray, rainy afternoon and a pot of hot tea.
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I AM "ON VACATION" THIS WEEK.  I have days spread before me, tabla rosa.  Well, not exactly a blank slate, I guess.  Tomorrow I'm taking my daughter-in-law to a  Seattle "multi-media" production of  "A Woman's World" ("the inspiring stories of women and girls who are transforming our world") to honor her completion of her Master's in Business Degree.  Then Monday I do my foster care program volunteer gig before going to a League of Women Voters forum on a local political issue.  Tuesday I go to Seattle with a friend for lunch and art museum gazing.  Wednesday morning I have my volunteer time in my granddaughter's 1st grade classroom.  But in and around those events and all day Thursday and all day Friday I will be able to tackle long-postponed projects, including perhaps beginning the process of turning this and my other yoga blog into books!   There are companies that do such things and it's been on my "to do" list for a long time.  I want a "hard copy" to keep and maybe share with family members.  If the grid crashes, all these stories of my life will be lost!  (These are the thoughts insomnia is born of).
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YESTERDAY WAS HUB'S BIRTHDAY.  I started dating him 2 months shy of his 18th birthday.  Nearly 50 years ago...unbelievable.  We've grown, changed, lived lifetimes together as we look back and marvel that we are still here, still loving each other, wondering what comes next.  I asked him what 67 feels like (I'll know in December, but I wanted a heads up.)  He said it feels a lot like 66.  He notes that maybe he gets a bit tired more easily in recent years -- like he used to do 8 hours of yard and garden work, but now is ready to quit after 4 (which was probably more reasonable anyway -- our sons have un-fond memories of indentured servitude to this big piece of property and its raking, weeding, and mowing demands.)

His knee has been bothering him -- old football injury come back to haunt him -- and he fears that sooner rather than later a knee replacement may be on the horizon, which could interfere with his fearless and obsessive snowboarding schedule.  Not one for groomed runs, he loves the deep powder of the glades, making fresh tracks through the trees, but which is also more challenging physically.  But in almost every other way he is as fit (maybe more so) than that 18 year old kid I went out with in high school.  He certainly is more sensitive, self-aware, patient, kind, and compassionate than back then, when gender roles and goal-driven tasks and projects -- personal,  educational, and professional -- occupied his time and focus.

The whole family was here to celebrate over dinner last night.  We are so blessed by our sons and who they've grown to be, by the women they've brought into our lives, and the grandchildren we cherish.  So, keep those birthdays coming, I guess.  We are holding the alternative at bay wth much to appreciate still present for us.
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THE STATE OF THE UNION CONTINUES TO DETERIORATE.  There is a "before" November 8th and an "after".  I am still trying to adjust to the reality of what is happening.  It's well-documented, so I won't list the litany of horrors 45* continues to visit upon our great nation.  (I call him 45 for he is the 45th President, but *elected by a minority of the popular vote.) Suffice to say, we are 100% immersed in "the Resistance" but it does take a psychic toll.  Sometimes I long to have my life back from the constant barrage of information and calls to action.

We spent all day in our state capitol on Tuesday attending a policy training and public hearing on a climate change bill that the Republicans will ensure won't see the light of day.  You do what is right anyway and just keep fighting.

We've reconnected with Physicians for Social Responsibility, a fabulous organization, a chapter of which we and others organized in our county. It feels good to be "back", but sad that so many issues now need to be revisited with even more urgency.

There are dozens of grassroots groups forming and it's hard to keep up and know which to ally with and which to ignore.  Many seem redundant and are splintering the finite number of people who can populate them.  I assume over time they will merge.  Forming, storming, and norming, as groups do.

I make my calls to legislators, send my emails, and post cards and watch the Media/Press do what they do so well -- dig, dig, dig.  In spite of 45*'s derisive name calling of them, his maneuvering to only include and speak to those conservative "alt-right" outlets that worship him, the tried and true and reliable news sources are doing their jobs.  It does my heart good.  I've always felt the Press is the bulwark of our democracy.  They are doing it again.  Rachel Maddow and her relentless tracking of the Russia connection, along with investigative reporting from the NY Times, Washington Post, the New Yorker and others may just bring the house down.  Waiting impatiently.
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ENOUGH.  The piano CD has ended and the teapot is empty.  The Outlander soundtrack has begun again on repeat and I need to plan which reruns of the TV show I will watch tonight.  So all ye lads and lassies, I bid you beannachd leat.

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

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....©