Another tumultuous week

Teeny little buds taken yesterday

Yesterday I walked with Steve, not for long since he had an early breakfast to attend, so we walked on the Boulevard Park trail until he had to turn around the head back. We didn't even make it all the way to Woods Coffee (which would have given us a five-mile round trip), but it was such wonderful sunshine and nice weather that it didn't matter that much. We've had days and days of sunshine and little wind, but very cold temperatures, right around freezing overnight.

I took this picture as I walked up my driveway to the apartment complex, after taking the bus back home after Steve left for his breakfast. I saw that there are actually a few little buds on the branches of the lilac bush and captured them for a nice picture to brighten the mood. I am always happy to spend some time with Steve before he goes off to his various activities. 

John called me early in the afternoon to cancel our Sunday breakfast, as he decided to watch the Seahawks game, which started in the evening, and he won't be getting to bed Saturday until late and we old folks don't do early mornings very well if we are up "late" the night before. The Seahawks trounced the 49ers. Now they will play the winner of today's game between the Rams and the Bears. Listen to me, sounding like a real fan. I really don't care, but everyone around here is riled up to have the Seahawks in the Super Bowl and maybe even win it.

Sports are a good distraction from all the other news of the world. I have been struggling with my ability to cope for several weeks now. I once upon a time had a strong sense of optimism about how everything would play out, but that is gone now. After the Minneapolis shooting, I have begun to find myself in sadness and fear much more often than usual, even during the dreary winter months. I also think turning 83 has reminded me that anything happening at all positive is beginning to become less and less likely. Is that partly because it's normal to feel all these aches and pains and have so little to look forward to? Or is this just a phase? It doesn't help that slowly but surely I am losing what's left of my central vision. Peripheral vision is not only intact, but I tend to think it's even better than it was before this started happening to my sight. I can still drive, carefully and cautiously, in short trips to familiar places. I realize lately that the most difficult part of my low vision is not having any depth perception. Did I tell you about me waiting for a robot to cross the street, only to realize it was a parking meter on the sidewalk and as I walked, it moved with me? I smiled at the misperception, but often I realize that is the most difficult part of being out walking. When the sun isn't up there, showing me the truth of my surroundings, I am at a loss.

Probably the hardest part of aging is realizing that you are not going to suddenly spring up out of bed and feel like things are getting better. That's not the way it works, but frankly when I look at my life, it's not all that bad or difficult. But there is a "yet" lurking in the background, because that's the way it works as the days, weeks and months fly by.

I have become more reliant on my headlamps to help me get around in the dark, even here at home. Now I sort my vitamins into their cubbyholes using it, and having several of them around to use makes a huge difference. Bright light is essential to me these days.

Strange. As I sit here in the dark, with the light from my laptop making it somewhat easier to read, I think I should be happy that my sight seems to have ecome more stable. I attribute that to the awful shots I received for almost a year, every six weeks without fail. I realize with these new treatments, there are no long-term effects to study and decide whether or when to stop. I stopped them when I could no longer afford the hundreds of dollars they were costing me, once the help I received from the insurance company stopped paying. And now I know that my sight had stabilized and the shots are no longer necessary, at least in the short term. I know that at some point I might begin to notice more degradation, but for now I am happy to say that I can still see well enough for most tasks I take on. 

The new operating system for the Mac also has lots of vocal stuff to supplement the visual stuff. I haven't installed it yet, but I will, and I am definitely already using some of the vocal cues to help. So, things are not that bad, and I am looking forward to much more help from my laptop and phone in the coming days. SG got the new system installed yesterday on his Mac, and he is anxious for me to get it installed and learn about it.

One of my most favorite things to do these days is walk to the bus and ride it to town, to the coffee shop, for exercise and social interaction. I am very happy that my hips and knees are mostly functional, still, in my early eighties and beyond (who knows for how long?). Life continues on, with many happy moments if I don't expect things to stay the same forever. One thing I have to acknowledge and be grateful for are my loved ones, my friends and family, and that also includes you, my dear virtual friends.

Until we meet agian, I wish you all good things. Be well.

It's been... a week

The Paratransit bus

Last Tuesday, I spent most of the day trying to get this picture onto the website for my usual Tuesday post. I finally ended up posting it without any pictures, which was a first for me. There are many firsts happening these days, as SG and I make our way through the latest iteration of our daily lives. SG applied for and receives permission to use this transit system to get around, sincd with a shattered left elbow and his ongoing blood cancer causing all kinds of difficulties, he can now use this system to get around town.

I've seen this  Paratransit bus in front of the Senior Center often, and he has now used it three times: once to get to the ortohpedic surgeon's office, and twice to get to the Cancer Center. There are no restrictions on use, that we know of anyway, and it's free and available to SG for the next three years.

He had great news at the ortho surgeon's office. They x-rayed the break from several angles and told him that surgery won't be necessary. It's healint nicely on its own, and he is to do some exercises, carefully at first, to regain some range of motion. But, unfortunately that was the only really good news he received this week.

Then, on Thursday, he went to see his oncologist to schedule his first injection of Aranesp, which has recently been found to be effective in increasing red blood cells (RBCs) in the treatment of MDS (Myelodysplastic Syndrome), which his oncologist says he most likely has. It can turn into leukemia, but not always, and now hopefully he is being successfully treated for MDS. Time will tell, but we are definitely hopeful.

He received his first injection of Aranesp on Thursday, a subcutaneous shot, which he said was not painful, just cold. But after he received the shot, his doctor said his red blood cell count was so low that he needed an infusion at the earliest possible time, which ended up being Friday, early in the morning. I left for my volunteer work just before, while he was waiting for the Paratransit bus to arrive. He tolerated the infusion well, but it took over three hours, and he was not there when I returned home around 1:00pm. I was understandably worried about him, but he texted me a couple of times from the Cancer Center to let me know he was still doing OK. Once I arrived home, I asked him how he was feeling, and he told me that already he was feeling stronger and more alert than he had experienced in quite awhile.

Last night, he learned that he will be receiving more infusions, weekly I suppose, until some later time. If he had not had such good response from the first one, I would be worried about all this flurry of activity. He is in good spirits, however, and I think part of that is caused by the infusion of whatever it is they are putting into his body. I wish I knew more, but he seems to be better, and whatever happens next, he is at least in the good hands of his oncologist and we have health coverage, which is more than many people have.

Mushrooms and moss

I wish they could do something like an infusion for my eyes, but I suppose I should be grateful that I still have a little central vision in my left eye. It hasn't gotten worse, and with everything happening, I am grateful. I accidentally smashed my desk lamp to smithereens last week, and I realized that I was unable to clean it up myself, since I couldn't see the shards of glass covering the floor. It was another reminder that I am disabled with low vision, and I can't pretend it's not affecting my life in profound ways. If that Canadian procedure would help, I would find a way to do it, but all the research I have done shows that perhaps it might slow the progression. But that seems to have been accomplished with the dreaded shots. Nothing has changed in the longer term, but I am still able to see well enough to get around and to do my volunteer work, which means I still feel useful. But being old is getting harder. It's almost impossible to plan anything because our day-to-day life is so full of sudden changes.

However, life is puttering along as we learn to navigate our current situation. We have each other, we have the internet and our virtual family and many other positive things going on. I am grateful for what we are able to accomplish, even in the face of illness and low vision. There is always something to appreciate in my daily life, and one of them will be arriving at the front door to take me to breakfast (John). 

With that, I wish you all good things, dear friends, and keep yourself and your loved ones close, safe in your heart. Be well.

Warm and wet, kinda nice

Threesome and beer

Yesterday was a very interesting day, weatherwise, with lots of warm rain and some wind, but also beyond the weather, some delightful visiting with my friend Lily and her son Stuardo, who is visiting her from Guatemala. I hope his visa will help him get back to his country, since it seems like the entire region is now in flux.

I did look at a map and see that Guatemala and Venezuela are almost 2,000 miles apart, so maybe the conflict will not affect his return. More than 300 flights from Puerto Rico have been canceled, I notice. It's a scary time for so many right now, but I think it will be straightened up soon. I hope.

Like I said in my opening paragraph, our weather has changed from super cod to a normal wet regime, and it feels much more normal than the frigid temperatures. It feels almost balmy in comparison.

Stuardo is such a fine looking young man, and he seems awfully old to me, since Lily is only is her mid-fifties. He is 37, but it reminds me that my son Chris was born when I was only 18, three weeks away from my ninetenth birthday. How long ago that was; now I am offically an old person. I have a lifetime of memories to help me remember those early years. I don't like to dwell on them, since there was so much sadness and trauma, nof much joy. Stephen was only 13 months old when he died, and I was 22. Today I am childless and feel a bit of envy when my friends talk about their grandchildren and how happy they are to be a part of their lives.

I only vaguely remember my own grandparents. My maternal grandfather was very ill with diabetes and all I remember about him is being in bed. His wife, my grandmother, lived with us for awhile after he died. She was not a happy person and spent most of her time away from us, Norma Jean and me. And my grandmother was the only person who called my mother "Bitsy," her nickname as a child, I guess. Sparse memories, but partly that might be the case as I was a self-absorbed teenager who only paid attention to things like clothes, boys, and gossip. My paternal grandmother lived in another city, so we seldom saw her. My grandfather had abandoned his family long before I was born, so I never knew him. Even Daddy only saw his father a few times before he died, a hermit living in the California mountains.

So, I never had the usual grandparent attention that many others have had.  It meant, however, that I never felt the need for something many grandchildren experience in their early life. Today, my life revolves around my partner and our quiet life together. He is dealing with a blood cancer that makes him tired most of the time, and I spend my time away from him either at the Senior Center or the coffee shop. I have a few close friends who fill my need for company. Lily is now a friend I have known for decades, and I love her very much. My friend Steve plays Connections with me almost every day I see him at the coffee shop. I see my friend John there, too, but he doesn't play games with me, instead he and I talk together, mostly about politics.

And we have our Sunday trip to Fairhaven to have breakfast together. I am very fortunate to have a good circle of friends, and I cherish the monthly FaceTime talks I have with my sister Norma Jean. She is dealing with the recent loss of her canine companion. In retrospect, my life is quite full and happy. I struggle sometimes with low energy and depression, but it's rare. I also have a virtual family, those I follow who have blogs like me. Some of them I have known for decades, too, and I look forward to finding out how their lives are faring. 

With that last statement, I think I will wind this post up for the week, and start to get ready for my trip to Fairhaven with John. I do hope you will have a wonderful week ahead, and I look forward to seeing you here next week. Until then, dear friends, be well.

It turned c-c-COLD after the rain fell

Along the waterfront selfie

I asked Steve if we would take a picture of us while we walked along Squalicum Harbor on Saturday morning. Our first walk since he returned from Hawaii to visit his mother for Christmas. His daughter Sara was also there, so they had a very nice time in warm tropical climes. Then they had to return to a very frigid, albeit sunny, Washington State.

We walked somewhere around five miles, my first good workout in at least a week, maybe more. It feels good to sit here in my favorite chair, having had such a good time in the cold, but feeling bad that I had forgotten my sunglasses and couldn't find my hat with a visor. Those were all serious drawbacks as I dealt with the incredible sunshine and frosty weather. It sure felt like winter, and I was glad that the rain has left us for awhile, but there could have been an in-between period. But no. In that picture taken in yesterday's weather, it isn't possible for you to see the wind, too, which obviously makes it seem colder. It was barely at the freezing mark, and the strong winds made it feel even colder. Brrr!

We have been relatively warm, considering that it is now winter. Our air temperature a couple of days ago was at least twenty degrees warmer than today's. We have turned a corner and will probably even get some snow here eventually. I was so glad we didn't have freezing sidewalks and roads in our neighborhood. I am still recovering from that icy fall last February. I sincerely hope I don't make that mistake again. I found my strap-on spikes and will not fail to use them if I decide to go out when it's slippery. The weather is always a good way to begin a post that I need to write, without any idea what to write about. It's my self-induced "job" to get something up here, even when nothing immediatcly comes to mind. I could remember previous moments when I was in this same mindset, or I could reminisce about days gone by. Or... I am in a quandary of my own making. Let's start with the good news.

SG has successfully been added to those available to use the Para-Transit bus. His situation has changed, now that he can arrange for the bus system to pick him up at home and take him to his doctor appointments. He starts the new treatment for his blood disorder on January 7th, with a monthly injection instead of daily pills. I read all about it and think it will probably be less difficult to deal with, but who knows with these strong and fairly new drugs? At least our insurance plan covers it.

His broken arm is not hurting him all the time, and he even did his own laundry yesterday, by making the basket into two loads and carefully navigating the stairs to the laundry room. He now has the ability to get to the orthopedic surgeon's office to get his elbow fixed. He's very resourceful and careful not to take another fall.

I am beginning to think that those eye injections helped slow down the progression of the geographic atrophy, since the last few months without them doesn't seem to have made a difference in my ability to see with my left eye's central vision. I thought by now I'd be unable to see well enough to write these posts, but I am still the same, or about the same, as when I stopped taking them. I simply couldn't afford the cost, not to mention the discomfort of getting them. So that's another bit of good news.

I'll talk to my sister Norma Jean on FaceTime on Wednesday and will find out how she's been since losing her fifteen-year-old dog last month. These furry companions just don't live long enough to keep from having to cope with such a loss every decade or so. On aggregate, though, our situation is on the upswing, both physically and mentally. At least we all still have our ability to think and use our brains. There are many people in their eighties who don't have that ability any longer. I might be reaching here to find things to be happy about, but hey, you do what you can to keep going when life gets hard, right?

I am also glad that we are almost through the holiday season. When you don't have family around, you rely on friends to make things interesting. My time with John, my time with Steve and other dear friends makes my world much brighter than it would otherwise be. And having my guy getting stronger every day, well, it makes every moment feel like a blessing. Today John will take me to our usual Sunday breakfast (I'm looking forward to it) and then come home to a warm, safe place during the cold and wind. I am content and filled with gladness that I am still here, still writing, still enjoying life. I hope you will be in the same situation, dear friends. Be well until we meet again next week.

Christmas Eve at Lake Padden

Lake Padden a few years ago

I think I have used this favorite picture to show what a beautiful place I live in, all year round. This was taken on Christmas Eve, and I have always enjoying see the soft clouds, a bit of snow, and the lake all together.

There are so many people in the area who will have experienced an especially difficult season, with many nearby communities needing time to get back to normal, after the floods and washed-out roads. We were spared, but it doesn't mean that those we love and know well are not suffering. And now it's gotten cold, with projections of days of sleet and unpleasantness ahead. It's the first official day of winter.

Winter's official start is today, December 21, at 7:03am Pacific Standard Time. It marks the longest night of the year and the shortest day. From here on out, we will gain more daylight (a little at first) and it will continue until we reach the Spring Equinox in March (wherreis year, for some reason, because we are no stranger to these wet periods. Can it be because I am getting so much less vigorous, and realizing that my sweet partner is having to learn to deal with working without one arm (actually one elbow joint) for the foreseeable future?

Yesterday, I finally made the move to my next project: learning to "read" whole books on the Audible app on my phone, which I downloaded to be able to read a book suggested by SG: Ram Dass' amazing book, Still Here: Embracing Aging, Changing, and Dying, written in 2000 after he survived a debilitation stroke.

It was just before his 70th birthday, and he went on to live a productive life until he died at 88. I remember reading his "Be Here Now" book many times during my thirties. And then I lost track of him for many years. He lost the ability to walk and his speech was impaired, but he took up other activities and remained very active in spite of his debilitating stroke. I recommend the book enthusiastically. I am about halfway through it, listening to it through my hearing aids as I sit in my favorite chair in our living room.

I had been putting off getting the app, believing my failing vision would help me continue living my life in a way that I could cope without major changes. I do think that the dreaded eye injections slowed the progression of the disease somewhat, but when I started them a few months ago, there has been no discernible change in my central vision in my left eye. I have, though, lost color and notice how difficult it has become for me to look at pictures and tell what I'm looking at. Given enough time, I can figure it out, but now when I write these posts, for instance, I use my bright headlamp to find the right keys, and it takes me a long time to finish them. Much longer than I would have believed possible. Once I find the right keys, I plow through the words, hoping I am making sense and rechecking the letters (with my trusty headlamp). I now have three, along with magnifying glasses.

The stroke has given me another way to serve people. It lets me feel more deeply the pain of others; to help them know by example that ultimately, whatever happens, no harm can come. 'Death is perfectly safe,' I like to say. --Ram Dass

I hope that some day I will see my encroaching blindness as a gift, maybe one for others, as he says here. But for now I am just trying to cope, trying to remember that when one part of our lives is diminished, others transform to help us find new ways to be. I am still very much alive and kicking, as they say, and I know how much it helps to serve others. I found that out in becoming a volunteer at the Senior Center, helping others to enjoy a good lunch. Although it's not been all that long since I began doing this, I have made so many new friends, those whom I look forward to seeing as they come in the doors and make their way to a seat. This past Friday we had a Christmas lunch, roast beef, mashed potatoes, rolls, buttered carrots, and pecan pie. I had the veggie version, which was also delicious. I was able to take home some of it for SG as well. We had a piano player bringing us happy tunes, then a violin playing all sorts of delightful music. The atmosphere was festive and everybody seemed to be having a good time. I was tired by the time it was all over, and my friend Michelle gave me a ride home, so I didn't need to stand in the sleet waiting for the bus to show up.

I got a call from John yesterday to tell me that our mutual friend Gene is in the hospital. He had a stroke, not a bad one, but they found he has had many of them lately, so he will have his carotid artery scrubbed today, Sunday, before they let him check out of the hospital tomorrow. He recently lost his longtime partner Paula, but her daughter will be taking care of Gene as they leave the hospital and he recovers.

Life is uncertain, but it sure helps to have loved ones to be on the journey with us, doesn't it? As I look over to the other side of my bed, where SG sleeps quietly, I feel incredibly blessed to have him. I watch him as he copes with the life we have today, and I am both impressed and grateful. He is actively working to find alternative ways to get around. Tuesday he has an intake conversation with the transit bus people: it the bus that comes to your home and takes you to your destination. It's part of our local bus service; you need to qualify (I'm sure he will) and then you get to use it.

The next week will bring the holidays to so many of us, and soon we will enter a new year, a new beginning, with spring not that far away. I hope you will enjoy a wonderful holiday, and that we will meet here again next week to ring in the New Year together. Until then, I wish you all good things. Be well, dear friends.

Double whammy

Harbor rainbow

We have been having the most rain I can remember since we moved here in sixteen years ago. Several nearby towns were evacuated and a few were flooded completely, not more than a few miles from us. We got almost four inches of rain right here in Bellingham last week, but other than it being extremely wet and difficult to navigate, we were safe. I took this picture of a rainbow over Squalicum Harbor a few years back; we haven't had enough sunshine for something similar right now. Until today, when the sun came out to remind us that it is still up there above the clouds.

I rode the bus a few times this week, but mostly stayed inside. I didn't go to the Senior Center for yoga on Wednesday, because it was raining so hard I didn't care to be out in it. And we had another problem: SG caught his shoe on a rug in the living room and took a hard fall. At first, he thought it was just a bad bruise. We didn't know it yet the time, but he broke his arm at the elbow. Over a few days, it got more obvious that it was not going to get better without treatment. So, I drove him to the Emergency Room in the middle of the night on Wednesday. You know I wouldn't have attempted to drive unless it was really important, but the rain had stopped and it was a clear night (early morning, actually: I got to the ER around 3:00am). I was able to see the lighted road and with his help, made it all the way there without incident. Once we got there, we went into an intake room and were eventually given a room to wait for the doctor. He took a look at the swollen arm, which was so painful that SG cried out loud several times before he was finally given some intravenous pain meds. Gradually he became more able to deal with the pain. 

Eventually it was x-rayed, confirming a fracture just below the elbow, and he was fitted with a sling and we made our way back home. It was light out by the time we set out, seven hours after arrival, and once we were home, I called a friend and asked for her help in getting to our pharmacy for the pain meds. By Wednesday night, he was in less pain, and I was able to help him into bed, and we spent a restless night trying to cope with the trauma.

I was really worried, but he was able to get some sleep, as was I. Not much, but enough. Thursday morning, I knew I wouldn't be going to my volunteer work at the Senior Center, but the main thing I needed was to make sure he ate something and was able to drink some water. I was very encouraged to see him relax a little.

Meanwhile, I got a text from my rental company that my check for December had not arrived. I called the bank and found that they had mailed it on December 1, and it was already the tenth of the month, with no sign of it. I was told to write another check and get it to the Property Management office. Well, I don't write checks any more and didn't have any. The bank sent me some, and I found out how to get to the management office in order to get the check there, and I called the bank and stopped payment on the missing check. My dear friend John listened to my story while we were at the coffee shop on Friday, and he drove me there. I walked the check into the correct office, and I hope this is the last I hear about that awful scenario. On top of SG's accident, I was afraid of late fees and whatever, but I think I was told that since it was not my error, it should be okay.

But this was on top of the scary scenario with SG, so I was a bit of a basket case and didn't go to my Friday volunteer work, either. So, Saturday morning was the first time I felt almost normal in a week. The sun was finally making an appearance, and we (Steve and I) walked around the harbor for a short while, so I got some exercise for the first time in several days. Me, who almost always gets ten thousand steps; last week was an outlier.

So that is what this post titled "double whammy," but with the rain, it might have been appropriate to call it a "triple whammy," And on top of all that I have felt barely able to hang onto some sense of normalcy. At least it's incredibly warm here, with record temperatures set while the rain fell. We have another, less intense but scary, atmospheric river coming for the next week. If I look at the good side of this time in our lives, we still have a dry home to live in, and we have health insurance we can afford, while much of our country is facing dire increases in costs. So I should be grateful for what we do have going for us, and I am. 

Today my friend John will come to take me to breakfast in Fairhaven. I hope that happens at least, so I can have a nice visit and time with him. What would I do without friends like him? I don't need to wonder because he's still there. Life is hard right now, but the sun is rising on a new day. I have struggled to get this post written, so I'll call it done, well enough for now. I hope you have a great week ahead, and that you will be here next week when the saga will be behind me. Thanks for hanging in there. Be well.

Another trip around the sun

I loved this dress

I have no idea what prompted me, the toddler in the picture above, to show you my underwear and pretty slip. Yes, that toddler from decade ago is definitely the elderly octogenarian settled into her easy chair in the living room, getting a start on tomorrow's Eye on the Edge blog post. (Now I'm in bed writing, the next morning.)

Lately, I have reverted to toddling, much as I must have done in those days. When I get up out of bed and make my way to the bathroom for my nightly visitation, I think I remember what it was like to be on my own two feet but not feeling all that steady. That toddler has no excuse, other than just being just a little past babyhood. For me these days, it's because of having used the current body for so many years that it's beginning to wear out. They do that, after all. The toddler was visiting her grandparents and other family members in Burbank, California. I think it was summer, looking at the flowers and all that. I can almost smell that crisp ironed dress. Wonder when was the last time I wore something like that.

It's been a hard week with a lot of weather to deal with, mostly rain, with much more on the way. Also, because down in Florida, we lost a family member: my sister's 15-year-old furry companion. Icarus was only very rarely sick, and didn't seem frail at all, when last week he began to shiver and was obviously not feeling well. Norma Jean took him to the vet's, who ran some tests and learned that he was very sick, terminal in fact. Within a few days, he went from seeming fine to needing to be taken across the Rainbow Bridge. After all the goodbyes and plenty of tears, Icarus was buried in their back yard, next to Zen, another companion who died a few years ago.

Icarus in his happy place

I wish we could do the same for us humans as we are able to do for our furry family members. He got sick and when it was obvious that he needed to be put to sleep, he was gently nudged across the chasm between worlds. We humans, however, are put in an ICU and subjected to lots of pain and indignities until the end. I'm glad that some states allow assisted suicides, like my own Washington State. They make sure regulations are followed, but nobody needs to suffer for months on end.

Fifteen years is a long time for a dog to live, although Icarus was a small ten- to eleven-pound Papillon breed. They tend to live a bit longer than larger dogs, but they don't ever live long enough. This is not the first time Norma Jean has lost a pet, and she knows she will eventually get used to this new reality, but it doesn't make any easier. There is now a dog-sized hole in all of our hearts that needs to heal, but the scars will remain to remind us of his sweet presence.

We have some really scary weather on the way, starting late tonight and continuing until Friday, with some places looking at perhaps seven inches of rain before the atmospheric river moves out. Up here north of Seattle, it might not be as intense, but flood watches are issued for all rivers and lakes in the state. Fortunately, I have lots of rain gear and will try to stay out of the worst of it. At one time when I first moved here, I didn't mind getting soaked, but as I have grown accustomed to it, now I prefer sunny skies and fluffy clouds. You don't move to this area if you are averse to lots of rain, however. 

I am beginning to think about the rest of my day. John will be here in about an hour, and I will have done my exercises and meditation by then. I will also have finished writing this post, and thinking about the dark days to come. We have two more weeks of shorter days and longer nights, until the winter solstice on December 21st, early in the morning here. Then the days will slowly grow longer and the nights shorter, until the summer solstice in June. I hope I will be here to take yet another trip around the sun.

In winter, the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens wear a look of a more exalted simplicity. Summer is more wooing and seductive, more versatile and human, appeals to the affections and the sentiments, and fosters inquiry and the art impulse. --John Burroughs

And I do hope the coming week will bring plenty of joy into your life, and that your umbrella holds up in the weather. I wish you all good things, my dear friends. Be well.