Photo Excursion into the Sierra Laguna Mountains Today

2 Replies

A lazy Sunday morning and we decided on a little trip to the mountains. Took the turn off from the coastal highway to Manzanitas and saw lots of interesting sights along the way.

No shortage of cows on the road. They are not the least bit intimidated by cars.

Lots of people have ranchos up here in the Sierra Laguna mountains. It’s green like a jungle almost right now. The lush scenery is just a few miles from the dry desert landscape.

If the photos are blurry it’s because I took most of these photos from a moving car…a moving car on a rutted mountain road. There aren’t a lot of safe places to stop.

Went through a few places where there was running water. Cows were having a nice Sunday in the water today.

It was pretty overcast at home this morning, but it was clear and sunny up in the mountains. We couldn’t get over how green it was.

This youngster posed so nicely for me.

Anybody would think we were in the Pacific Northwest.

The wild plumerias delighted us.

Cows aren’t the only animals who like the water.

Crested Caracara

My first shot of this bird, though I’ve seen so many in the last 7 years. This was my red-letter day!

Hope you enjoyed our mountain photo excursion. We sure did.

Coffee, Dog, Books, Art, & Beach

Leave a reply

Living in paradise is making this part of my life more than satisfying. Owning a home means lots of chores (repairs, etc.) but I love our home here in El Pescadero, BCS.

Casa Contenta from the back

Our aluminum gate (designed by Susie!)

Waking up every morning to a good cup of Joe and taking Isabela for a walk on the beach is how I start my day. Every day!

Isabela is in charge on her walks. She decides which way to go and how long to be gone. Food is after the walk, and she knows that. Isabela will start to go home when she’s ready. She has us trained.

Sometimes we take a frisbee, but mostly it’s the ball and the chuck-it.

Having a dog like Isabela means we get out for a walk at least twice a day. What could be better? Sometimes we walk in the neighborhood hills. It’s so beautiful.

Lots of farmland in our neighborhood.

Shot this photo yesterday. The pitaya flowers are so pretty.

I can put out our umbrella and settle in with a good book. I have the best life now. No more grading papers and taking the ferry and the bus to work (in the rain). Now is the time for slowing down and enjoying The Baja. I have learned to let the days happen to me more often than not. Who knows? Maybe I’ll paint something today too. I’m inspired by my colorful surroundings.

Hope you can let your day just happen for you in ways that fill your heart with joy!

Happy July 2018

Say Goodnight and be Thankful

4 Replies

From our bedroom deck we are treated to this beautiful sunset. It’s one of many we’ve witnessed, but it never gets old.

Right down on the beach the view is a little different. Saying good night to another good day is sweet and complete when this is what we get.

I’m a sunset junkie and proud of it.

When morning comes:

Get up!

Drink Coffee!

Hug the husband!

Take the dog for a walk on the beach!

There will be another sunset tonight too, I’m betting. We are so thankful for the blessed life we lead. May yours be as full of grace and beauty.

2nd Day of Diving–Greg gets it right!

Leave a reply

Greg chats with the young captain, Pablo.

Another beautiful day in the waters of Cabo San Lucas. Scuba diving day two. For some reason I am not doing even as well as I did on day one. But I manage to get down and see some beautiful coral, fish, eels, and at one time swim through lots of plankton, causing poor visibility, but somehow it was thrilling for me. Our instructor made a concerted effort to see that Greg would do all the skills so he could pass the diving portion of the class. My husband was so happy when he got back into the boat. Hooray for Greg. I, on the other hand, have to go back another day (pay extra for another boat trip).

One great thing was I got to see the famous Cabo Arco.

Am I disappointed? Claro que si. (Of course.) Determined as I am, there is one problem in my way now. My ears won’t clear, and I have muffled hearing. So I’m sitting it out for a while before I go back to get my skills accomplished. Today I am seeing a specialist for my ear problems. Sigh.

But I’ll be back! I’m bound and determined. We are both putting in the hours of study in the manual and taking lots of quizzes and tests in order to pass the written portion of the class. We’re in section 3 of 5 sections. Each one takes hours! But it is interesting and part of our knowledge base so we can be skilled divers. Learning new things keeps us young.

The sights on the surface from the boat are awesome.

I’m not going to let this ear trouble get me down. Don’t worry. Be happy! I can do this.

I Want to Live Before I Die, or Why I Took-up Scuba Diving

7 Replies

As a young person, I learned about the Great Barrier Reef in Australia and I thought how exciting it would be to go there. It was a dream I held onto. The biggest challenge, however was learning to scuba dive. That is one challenge I wasn’t willing to chase at the time. I’ve not found enjoyment being underwater, in fact I barely put my face in the ocean, and then it’s only to snorkel (on the surface). Jumping the waves, boogie boarding, walking on the beach? Sure. But no surfing or swimming in the ocean for me. I let my dream of seeing the barrier reef simmer on the back burner, thinking of it only occasionally as the years sped by.

It’s been easier to enjoy the ocean since I moved to Baja Sur, because I’ve spent more time snorkeling, swimming in the waves, and I learned that I can dive under the waves to get out farther. Before I would only go out as far as I could and keep my feet on the bottom. Now I do more than jump the waves like I did as a kid. But a respectful fear of the ocean has always been with me.

Coming through the whole cancer treatment gave us both a pretty clear message: We have to live. Really live. Experiences are what we crave now. We have always been frugal, saved money, not spent much on travel, etc. Owning things has much less significance to us these days. Adventures have greater appeal. I don’t think I’ll be on my death bed talking about how I owned an iPad or a great closet full of clothes. No. I’ll be talking about the trips I’ve taken, the thrills and the risks I’ve had.

So let’s go to Belize. We’ve paid for the airplane trip, put a deposit on the hotel and some excursions offered by the hotel like cave tubing and zip lining in the Belize jungle. When I learned that Belize had the second largest barrier reef, my old dream came swimming back into my consciousness. It isn’t Australia’s barrier reef, but Ambergris Caye in Belize is known for diving and snorkeling. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belize_Barrier_Reef

I’m including this next link to an article about the wonderful sights and activities in store for us.

http://www.thisisinsider.com/ambergris-caye-best-destination-in-central-america-2016-7

This will be a trip of a lifetime so I must face my fears. Why would one go all the way to this famous dive paradise and not dive? Greg is all in. He’s a water man already and has been most of his life. We have done a fair amount of fishing together in a 16′ aluminum boat of our own when we lived in the Pacific Northwest. Since moving here, he’s drawn into the sea to surf almost everyday, and he loves to snorkel, diving down while holding his breath. He has reminded me many times of all the things I miss by staying on the surface.

Apparently now, as I approach my 72nd birthday, is the time to learn how to scuba dive. I’m nervous, but like I said, “I want to live before I die.” Some girls go swimming; real girls go scuba diving.

Our longtime young friend, Michele, recently took up free diving/spear fishing in Cabo San Lucas, so we asked her if she knew anyone in Cabo who could give us scuba lessons to become certified. We’re in luck. She knows Benoit, who owns The Ocean Tiger’s Dive House, a hostel in Cabo. He is a member of PADI (Professional Association of Dive Instructors). He has all the skills and the equipment and he partners with Cabo Diver so he can get us out into the open ocean.

https://www.booking.com/hotel/mx/ocean-tigers-dive-house-cabo-san-lucas2.html

After a week of thinking about this leap into scuba diving, I decided to reach out to Benoit. I set us up for the open ocean diving class, and we decided to do it in three days. First day is watching an information video (4 hours long) and then doing skills in the pool. We spent 11 hours the first day immersing ourselves into this new activity. Lots to learn. Second day is the first real ocean diving. Third day is another couple dives in the ocean proving you can do all the skills.

It took me 15 minutes to get into my wet suit. It was still wet from rinsing it out from the last person who used it, making it even more difficult. I was a sweaty mess by the time I pulled it all the way on. Greg had to help me (a lot). Next we got fitted with our BCD (buoyancy control device) and our fins. Off we go to the Cabo Diver boat in the Cabo marina. Am I nervous? You bet. But I’m going to do this.

Apparently our teacher, Benoit, doesn’t like having his photo taken.

The boat trip out for our first dive was crazy. There are a bazillion boats in Cabo. Some are filled with drunken tourists (many of them, in fact) and others bring thrill seekers who want to snorkel, jump from the rocks, and scuba dive.

Greg is not all that excited about having his photo taken either.

The thrills of diving are numerous. The ocean is another world, rich with beauty and filled with creatures I’ve only seen in photos. Learning to be a scuba diver is hard for me. I did well after the first 12 minutes of flailing around trying to get down. I did everything wrong. Did I apply anything I learned the day before? No. Instead I started hyperventllating and lost control of my body and mind. Benoit is looking at me like, “What are you doing? This isn’t what you learned.”

Finally, I settled into it and found myself at the bottom seeing the sights you can’t see from a boat. No photos there, as we are spending a lot of time performing our tricks (skills) and reality is we are too distracted with being in the water with a heavy tank on our backs and all this stuff on. Controlling our breathing and our bodies to make them get to that weightless place gliding in the water is enough for now.

We got to experience rays jumping in between dives. Always a thrill to see.

Look closely and you’ll see the ray.

What a poser.

Rays in this one too.

My second dive of the day was pretty much a disaster. I was tired already and really had experienced all I wanted for one day, but the plan was to make two dives. I probably should have opted out and taken more time for all this fun. But I went back in at the appointed time, and while I’d done pretty darn good during the first dive, I lost control of myself and began breathing in really deep and exhaling with the same vigor. Not the kind of breathing necessary to perform a dive, that’s for sure. What a disappointment I was to myself.

Taken immediately before we threw ourselves off the boat backwards. You’ve seen divers do this in movies and Nat Geo films, right? I was even scared to do that. But I did!

People learn at different rates. Greg had the advantage of being comfortable in the water, having been a surfer since he was a kid. He’s more of a dare devil in the first place. No fear. That’s him. Me? I resemble a chicken sometimes. We have another day coming where I can redeem myself. Oh my! Two more dives and I have to prove I can do it.

Part XIII-Getting by with Lots of Help from Family and Friends

Leave a reply

The tune by Carole King swims around in my head. “You’ve Got a Friend”

Not just friends–family too. Our middle son, Matt, and our eldest, Cameron, both come to be with us at the farmhouse. I don’t know what I would do without them. My woman friends, Margarita and Carol, come to help too, bringing food and helping me get things organized in our new digs. Rob called from Crested Butte, CO everyday to talk to Greg and me. He and Stacee have a home near us in Baja. They are such good people. Those phone calls meant so much to us.

Mike and Janine visit as well, taking our minds off our troubles. Our longtime buddy, Harold, with whom Greg worked for 25 years, comes to stay with us at one point. He lives in Spokane, and it is a boon for us to have him here. Michael, another of Greg’s co-workers and friend of 25 years, stops by to visit too, and he brings our mail.

Many people send cards of love and support. One of the messages from a card Rachel and Mark send stays with me. It is sweet mail, “Keep Swimming. Refuse to Sink.” My friend, Holly, a professional photographer, gifts us with a framed photo of our beach in Baja. I cry happy tears.

But the insurance company mail is not so sweet.

Later I painted the saying so I could remind myself. “Refuse to Sink!”

We’re experiencing a big problem with our medical insurance and we keep going around and around on the phone and through the mail. If dealing with cancer and treatment isn’t enough I’m getting notices from the Premera insurance company that they no longer will cover Greg. We have to start all over with another health insurance company. Really?? Just perfect.

It’s hard to accept that I can’t do this alone, but as soon as I let go of my ego surrounding this, I am more than happy to lean on all these angels surrounding us. Family and friends! It’s all about love. Right now we’re getting a lot of that.

We are showered with love and help and emotional support. Tons of it. People keep reminding me to take care of myself, not just care for my sweet husband who is suffering so. I am not watching out for myself much during this time. I have a mission and I am not thinking about anything else.

For Greg and I it’s as if there is a veil over our lives. You know how you feel when you’ve got a bad cold or the flu? How nothing is right with you? You don’t think the same, feel or react to things normally. Multiply that by a thousand. It’s as if I have no peripheral vision. My brain is scrambled.

Most times I am one heck of a good multi-tasker. You want five things done at a time and done well? I’m your woman. Not now. I’m working hard to focus on my “nursing” duties. I’m cleaning his port, using his port for medication and for hydration. We have a backpack to put the bags of saline in, with the pump secured in the pack. It has a timer on it. Greg can be more mobile with the pack. However, the nutrition bags are hanging on the pole that has its own pump attached to it. It’s on wheels. That’s not as helpful as it might sound though, as he can barely walk and he asks me to disconnect him from the food instead.

Then he won’t let me start it up again, as it’s making him sick. I’m beside myself with concern for his nutritional needs. But he refuses more often than not. His weight is falling rapidly. With it goes his strength. I’m helpless to help him because he won’t let me. This is consuming me with frustration, anger, and fear. I’m angry with his treatment. I’m angry with cancer. Fuck cancer.

I explain to him that I’m the one whose responsibility it is to see that he gets his nutrients and his fluids. He says he doesn’t want to vomit anymore. What am I supposed to do? He’s malnourished. It’s killing me. It’s killing him. I think my blood pressure must be high. I know his blood pressure is high. Pain does that.

I want to scream. I go downstairs to the bathroom and close (slam) the door. I scream and cry for all I’m worth. Now I have a splitting headache from all this screaming and crying. Go figure.

I have to keep his hydration packs in the refrigerator, but the cases of items needed to deliver it and the cases of Boost for the stomach tube and all those disposable bags to hang on the pole litter the dining room.

Just a few of the things I have to use for hydration and feeding.

I am recording things in my notebook to make sure I have something to which I can refer if I can’t remember my care accomplishments. Which medication? When? How much? How much nutrition has he had? When does the next shipment of hydration packs come? Did I order them? The pharmacy is good about calling when they believe I’m running low on supplies. Where are those syringes? (I have many different ones. Some come already filled. Others I must draw medication into the syringe.) Sanitary practices must be followed. I’m paying a great deal of attention to all of this. I can’t let my emotions join my nursing party. Focus. Focus.

No longer doing any exercise, he lies in the chair trying to sleep, in between trips to the bathroom.

Without my family and friends and the neighbors who are splitting wood and keeping the stove burning, feeding the chickens, and letting them out when I am gone, I’d be unable to function. We had never even met this neighbor before. The care they give us is such a gift. All the people who help, give hugs, their ears that listen. Priceless.

I tell Greg not to try to get up without me or someone to help, but he’s not “with it” enough to remember, or the urgency to get to the bathroom is too much. He’s fallen twice now. His fever is getting too high. I am crazy with fear and worry. I call the nurse and she tells me to take him to emergency.

At this point our sons have gone home to California and Florida with promises to return again soon. So Harold helps me get him in the car and offers to take care of Isabela, so I don’t have to have her stuck in the car for hours. Bless him. (He’s not a dog lover either).

I drive to the ferry and head for the hospital. Good thing I remember to bring a big pan in case he needs it. Which he does. I force myself to concentrate on driving carefully. I’ve got precious cargo to deliver to the hospital.

Cancer Journey Part XII-Going Through the Motions, December 2016

Leave a reply

A note: I started this diary of our journey with cancer quite some time ago. It’s been a long haul, but I think I have what it takes to finish this now. Here we go with Part XII.

Taken at Mike and Marla’s…before the treatment side effects hit.

Christmas is swiftly coming upon us. It is going to be different for sure, but while Greg is feeling okay, we are trying to enjoy our lives with people we love. Visiting with our dear friends, Mike and Marla, whom we haven’t seen in so many years, is good for our hearts.

Being with Marla brings big smiles.

Janine and her daughter, Jordan, love to decorate their home for the holiday. Greg and I haven’t done any decorating since our kids grew up and left home, so this is quite a change. It’s very festive, I have to say, and somehow it cheers us both.

There are decorations up all over town. Even the hospital gets Christmassy. (Yes, that’s really a word).

The view from the Providence Regional Cancer Partnership on the 2nd floor where they give the radiation treatments.

One day leads to another. The rhythm of riding the ferry, driving to the hospital, slipping into a hospital gown, being slid into the radiation machine becomes so familiar he can do it without much thought. Although reality means there are many thoughts and questions swirling around our brains. Each day of treatment brings a different ugly physical reaction for Greg. He is being fairly stoic, and maintaining a pretty good sense of humor, in spite of the roller coaster ride that is radiation and chemotherapy.

Heading out from Mike and Janine’s driveway to the ferry.

As people who live with a dog, we have to make this daily grind work well for us and help make the new routine as comfortable as possible for Isabela. If she thinks we’re getting in the car to go somewhere to play with her she gets so excited she can’t stop barking and bouncing around from window to window in the car. This behavior consequently drives us crazy. This is a stress we do not need.

As I said before, every morning as we climb into the car to head for Everett, I tell her, “We’re going to the hospital. We’re taking Daddy to the hospital.” Repeating this helps her to understand that we are NOT heading to the beach or the park to entertain her. Rather, she soon learns that “going to the hospital” means she is going to be stuck in the car for a considerable amount of time. When she learns the new routine, sees that we’re heading to the ferry, she gets in the car, lies down, looks dejected, but remains quiet.

In order to have something positive to do while I wait for Greg to finish his treatments, I bring along lime green and royal blue yarn for crocheting hats and scarves for Seahawks fans.

There is a place in the lobby where cancer patients can go for information (there is a lot of it) and to pick out donated items like the ones I make. In the Seattle area, Friday is the day many people wear their Seahawks’ colors, so my scarves and hats prove to be popular. They get snatched up as soon as I get them finished. Plus, while I’m crocheting, the yarn keeps me warm and gives me something positive on which to focus, instead of filling my mind with worries. It works pretty well for me, though I have to admit I do a lot of worrying these days. Things are changing rapidly now.

Attempting to get into the holiday spirit, I paint a rock for Jordan.

Our hosts go to celebrate Christmas with Janine’s brother’s family and we have their beautiful home to ourselves for a few days. They left a stocking filled with goodies for Isabela and she has a lot of fun “opening” it.

Christmas comes and goes. It’s getting more and more difficult for Greg, and he has a couple extreme bouts of nausea and vomiting. His color isn’t good. His hair is starting to fall out in the back of his head, in a strange, straight line.

To very little fanfare, on New Year’s Eve, Greg turns 63. He isn’t in the mood to celebrate. Meals are no longer enjoyed. Greg has always been thin, but now his weight drops quickly. Swallowing is impossible, and there is a lot of mucous.

It’s time to start hanging the bag of Boost from a pole and have it trickle into the stomach tube for feeding. Doing this kind of feeding is emotionally challenging. We both find it difficult to mentally prepare. But of course it is a lot worse for my husband than it is for me. I can busy myself with the details, go through the motions of programing the pump, filling the bag, keeping track of how much he’s getting, etc. He’s the one that has to sit in a chair hooked up to this contraption as the concoction drips slowly through the tube into his stomach.

It’s hard to look forward to eating, especially if you have to have it dripping into a tube that goes into your stomach and it’s the stuff you vomited up the last time you had it.

He got so horribly dehydrated we had to go to the hospital for hydration. We waited for four hours to be seen in the emergency room. After having to be hydrated at the hospital a few times, the decision to order supplies for at-home hydration seems the only way to go. I will learn another skill to help Greg get through this.

We are now moving from Mike and Janine’s to another friends’ home. For January, we previously made plans to trade houses with Dennis and Joni, who live on Whidbey Island too.

Joni and Dennis trade houses with us.

It’s not too far from where we’ve been living. They will be flying to Baja and staying in our house for seven weeks. Lucky for them!

Greg is so sick now that he can’t help me with the move. He’s lying on the couch just trying not to throw up. He’s so weak. I make several trips with all our stuff to Joni and Dennis’s. How did we manage to get so much? Winter clothes are bulky, but a lot of it is related to feeding and hydrating Greg. I have cases of boost, all the things related to his feeding and a myriad of hydration equipment. It’s quite a feat making sure everything gets transferred over there and making sure Greg is taken care of. Not to mention what to do with Isabela. In our new home we will have chickens to feed. I will need to let them out for hours at a time too. Isabela and chickens? This is going to be interesting.

The home of Joni and Dennis, our new digs for 7 weeks.

They have a rabbit too.

January 2017. We are moved in. I’m tired. Greg is so sick and weak. Isabela is unsettled. Where are we now? What’s going to become of us? Life is definitely interesting…but oh, so very tough.

Last Day of June, First Day of July

Leave a reply

Blue skies make for a joyful heart. Last evening’s walk made for a satisfying way to end the last day of June.

This is a close-up of those little flowers in the photo above.

El Pescadero where we live has farmland. Basil, poblano peppers, watermelon, and sometimes sage and rosemary grow all over our neighborhood. Sometimes the basil perfume mixes with that of the ocean and I know I’ve died and gone to heaven.

The plant below is called Bad Woman (Mala Mujer). It gets its name from the nasty stinging hairs on its leaves. It is beautiful, but I don’t want to experience those stinging hairs. It is a perennial and blooms mostly May-July, mostly in the southern part of the Baja peninsula, especially in the Cape region.

Back of my house on the last leg of my evening walk.

Before the day ends, I snap a few photos in my backyard.

This part of our yard is watered with our grey water.

Some of the cactus in this part were already here, but mostly we are growing things we brought in.

Close-up of our passion fruit vine that covers the back fence. We get lots of fruit and privacy from this growing fence.

As we begin our morning of July 1st, the moon is still out.

Our neighbor’s house (rammed earth).

Cardon blooms and a dove enjoying the July early morning.

Bustin’ at the seams this morning with joy.

Later the car will get a much-needed bath, I’ll practice the ukulele, sit in my hammock chair, and read. Sacred Sunday! My wish for you is that you enjoy yourself wherever you are and whatever you do.

Recent Baja Delights

4 Replies

The desert is coming alive. Summer is here for sure and I’m using my house fans already. We had such a cold winter. Well, at least it was cold to those who live here full time. I love the lazy, quiet summer, even with the humidity and heat. It’s like taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Sweet, sweet summer.

Couple days ago we went to La Paz to run errands. Stopped at the Bravo Market for bacon (for Greg) and bones (for our dog). I can barely stand the smell of the meat, so I wandered around looking at all the fruit and veggies while Greg waited his turn. In the various juice stands they must make a least 20 different types of fresh fruit and vegetable drinks. More my speed.

After our errands and shopping, we headed out of town toward the pretty beaches–Balandra Bay, and Tecolote Beach. Stunning views. Big city, desert and water and mountains all in one day.

Tecolote

So many shades of blue. It was pretty quiet where I took these photos, but not too far away people were speeding around in jet skies and you could hear the screams of delight from young kids. I prefer the quiet lapping of the water on the shore, but to each her own.

Today’s walk in the neighborhood was fun. Isabela and I have a couple different walks in the hills around where we live. She loves to chase rabbits and she is always stopping to smell something. It’s what dogs do. They have such a sense of smell.

The following is from

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/nature/dogs-sense-of-smell.html

It says, “For one thing, they possess up to 300 million olfactory receptors in their noses, compared to about six million in us. And the part of a dog’sbrain that is devoted to analyzing smellsis, proportionally speaking, 40 times greater than ours. Dogs‘ noses also function quite differently than our own.”

That is an interesting site if you are interested in dogs, and who isn’t?

We saw lots of things today, but I only took a few photos. The desert is alive with flowers this time of year.

Weeds? I won’t tell them if you don’t.

These are weeds apparently, but such showy ones.

Oh, and a dead rattlesnake. Poor guy. Isn’t he beautiful? Call me crazy, but I like snakes, though I have a healthy fear of this kind.

The photo below is a neighbor’s place. He must pay for a lot of water.

Going to leave you with a photo of my favorite peak– Sierra de La Laguna:

These photos should show you some of the reasons I love my life here in Baja Sur. We live on the “right side” of the wall.

Contact Me

Leave a reply

[wpforms id=”2964″]

When Push Comes to Shove

2 Replies

This idiomatic phrase has been rolling around in my head for awhile and my attention has been focused on precise distinctions. Is there a subtle difference between a push and a shove? When things get critical, and there is an urgency, does a push then become a shove?

I had a professor at the University of Washington that insisted there are no synonyms. Each word has its own special essence and I believe these two words prove his point. ‘Shove’ seems more aggressive, doesn’t it?

Recently, I had my push/shove moment. The political climate in the USA is horrendous. My heart breaks constantly over the unabashed way our leaders disrespect humans. Not just the immigrants who are coming in search of asylum, but its own citizens. If you happen to be a person of color, or if you are not straight, white, and male, or enjoy a good financial status, then you are often treated unfairly.

The actions taken by the current government officials that hurt democracy, harm others in the world, and negatively impact our planet’s environment will take years to reverse. The bigotry shown by #45 and his ilk hurts all of us. America is no longer the country to which I feel connected.

I became so incensed I had to quit Facebook because I couldn’t stop emotionally reacting to all the political posts. I was horrified by posts from friends, or their responses to others’ posts, that showed them to be people I don’t even want to know. How can ANYONE say that #45 is a Christian? I can think of a lot of descriptors of him, and Christian certainly is not one of them. He lacks integrity, intelligence, moral fiber, and the ability to think critically as evidenced by his lies, executive orders, and his choices for cabinet members.

But it is the issue of gun control that changes everything for me. I find myself losing control of my emotions when I see how many people find no reason to even discuss gun control. Gun control is not a valid issue to them.

It isn’t healthy to get so wound up. I deactivated my Facebook account. Now I pick and choose what to read. I am surrounding myself with books that make me think, help me become a better person. I am immersing myself in painting, music, and beach walks. I spend time with people who care about others, and people who believe in protecting rights, but don’t see owning an AR15 as a right anyone has.

I will continue to vote, to uphold my values, be part of my community, and do things to help others in big and small ways. But I won’t be sucked into being part of poisonous rhetoric. I am choosing to look for positive ways to impact my world. The actions I want to take will be of a supportive, encouraging nature to those I encounter. I will be better able to share with enthusiasm now because I am not constantly aching inside, being reminded of the evil nature that seems to be thriving in America right now.

You may see my withdrawal as cowardly. But I see it as simply realizing my limitations. I’m refusing to be bombarded with what kills my spirit. Push has come to shove.

I just learned to play Amazing Grace on the ukulele. I finished another colorful painting of a doorway. I took my dog for a walk, my husband and I had a great conversation with our neighbors, and I started a new book. I’m filling my life with love and happiness.

My most recent attempt with acrylic.

Hiking Mt. Solmar in Flip Flops

2 Replies

It all started when my dear friend Dori and her daughter, Lily and Lily’s girlfriend, Annabel came from the US to stay in their home nearby us for a week. They wanted to go to Cabo San Lucas and hike to the iconic arch. Dori said they had done this before, so I gladly accepted the invitation to go with them. I have hiked a lot in my life and think it’s fun. Just because I’m 71 doesn’t mean I can’t hike anymore, right? But I wore flip flops? Really? What the heck was I thinking?

I drove us to Lands End in Cabo by the marina and after parking and avoiding several annoying salesmen trying to get us to buy a boat trip, we got to the beach on foot. That’s where this hike was going to start. But it has been quite a few years since Dori had gone to the arch. The pathway she’s sure they took back then is fenced off.

No stopping us though, and we decided to follow the path up Mt. Solmar and see if we could drop down onto a trail to the beach where the arch is.

Doesn’t look like much of a trail, does it?

Lily, Annabel, and me!

This wasn’t a problem for quite a long way, but we realized early on that this wasn’t going to be ending well. The beach is not in the direction we were going, and it got pretty steep without much of a trail. We sent the teen-age girls up alone to see if they could see a trail going down to the beach.

My flip flops made this a tenuous experience. Also, every time I reached for a rock as a hand-hold, there was a little cactus waiting to greet me. Oops. The views from where we were made it worth it though.

After the girls had gone higher and checked it out, we realized this wasn’t what we wanted to do and we started back down.

I definitely rue the day I didn’t wear my hiking boots or my tennis shoes at the very least. Without support and traction, I was not doing that well. I started to lose my footing at one point and reached out to hold onto a rock, but there was a cactus in that very spot, so in a split second I decided to jump, instead of fall. I landed on some loose rocks, jarring my knees and fell on my butt. Ouch. Not only was I trying to hike in these stupid shoes, I hadn’t had breakfast. It was about 11:30am at this point. The fall made me feel achy and woozy.

I would have kicked myself if that had been possible. Stupid me. At least I brought water along, but it was already half gone.

Cactus blooms delighted us on the trail.

Turned out that we could see a better (level) path after we got down that headed in the direction we wanted. Dori remarked that she should have listened to her intuition in the first place, as it was pretty obvious that going up this rocky mountain wasn’t going to get us to the arch.

Taking this nice path made for a sweet adventure that ended with more splendid views, but we never made it to the arch. One would have to be a mountain goat to get down the rocks to the beach. Or be wearing better footwear. And maybe being a little younger would have helped me. At any rate, we decided to get back to the beach where we started.