October

I remember writing, a few weeks before my 60th birthday, something to this effect: Sixty comes wearing clunky boots draped in mismatched rags....I can't run from her, she's barreling in, a fearsome thing. 

How little did I know that Witchy Unattractive Sixty in my mind would turn out to usher in a mostly good decade with some unforgettable adventures, one last romance, friendship, energy, and great expectations!  How little did I know that Sixty was so...young! 

The weeks before my October birthdays cause me to reflect a bit more than usual on aging, especially the ages that end with zero or five.  

The weather is getting slightly cooler now and October is here, if only in name, without the sentimental scents and colors I associate with my birth-month in Georgia. I love walking Luci on the nature trails, letting her feel more a bit of dog wildness, trails filled with mysteries to sniff and, potentially, other four-legged strangers.

If "April is the cruelest month," October is perhaps the sweetest, when autumn was full of color, a nip of cold air, men burning leaves in their yards, women hanging clothes on the line, then running to bring them in if rain came without advance notice.  October is the month of my birth, of the county fair, the ferris wheel and cotton candy carnival that set up for a week just a couple of blocks from our house on Ann Street.  October smells like orange and gold and red, apples and leaves and boiled peanuts. Homecoming and mums and high school bands. 

In two weeks, it will be impossible to ignore the fact that this will be my seventy-fifth whole October.  How did I arrive at this staggering number?  I knew all along it would arrive one day (if I was lucky), now here it is, my new reality. 

I met an attractive man on the trails tonight and I noticed myself comparing ages.  I do that a lot these days--compare my age with the age of the person I'm talking to.  I don't see dancing or dating  in my future, but there's nothing at all wrong with my eyes, or my memory.  

Luci and I meet good people on the trails--dog walkers, kids, teenagers on bikes, puppies.  We share dog stories and de-skunking recipes.  I learn that there are at least three foxes in the neighborhood.  

This upcoming weekend, I'll be celebrating 75 early at the beach with friends.  We go back fifty years.  One has a beach house and we're reviving our many years' tradition of retreats we started in our thirties.  I look forward to walking in the sand, donning a swim suit, and having our fill of seafood. 

So, come on, October!  It's going to be okay.

After her shampoo and four hours in the doggie spa, Luci seems to be reviving.  As we know, no girl likes to stink!

I am spreading paprika and bone meal around the yard hoping to dissuade the skunk family from visiting.

We're so lucky to have the beautiful nature trails so close to our house. Luci does great walking without her leash and sniffing to her heart's content.

We met new friends, Joan and Alfie.  Alfie is a Norwich Terrier and Joan and I are going to set up some playdates for Alfie and Luci..

Here's Alfie, an adorable little guy who seems to know "what it's all about."

Here's Luci showing off her new DO!

Ailing Luci

Luci's been lethargic and sad.  She drapes her head down off the sofa and rarely seems her perky self. When Carma comes to visit, she hides behind me, refusing to play. 

Unable to get a vet appointment until next week, I decided to take her this morning to Penny, our favorite groomer.

Luci loves Penny and wags her tail a little when she sees her.  I told Penny I'd bathed her in Janet's de-skunk recipe but I could still smell a tiny whiff of skunk.  Penny said she'd recently learned that getting skunked can make a dog sick or depressed!  Who knew? Maybe a good deep clean can rouse her back to her normal self without Prozac.  

Here's the recipe should you have an animal who gets sprayed:

1 cup hydrogen peroxide

A handful of baking soda

Dawn dishwashing detergent.

When I bathed her in this mix, she was so docile and sweet that I'm sure she knew what the goal was and was grateful!  But even a lingering smell of skunk, Penny said, can be very irritating to dogs whose sense of smell is "a hundred times more sensitive than human's."

I have been feeding her good quality dog food, Dr. Marty's, but she's been refusing to eat it.  So I've ordered her another brand to try: Badlands.  It's full of super nutrients--like the ones I'm trying on myself--including turmeric.  The sales pitch was convincing and I hope it adds to her pep and cheer!

Some series you might like....

Coincidentally, the English actress, Lesley Manaville,  has starred in three of the last several series I've enjoyed: Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, Magpie Murders, and World On Fire.

Her roles, in these three of her many roles, are spunky independent women. 

World on Fire's second season begins on PBS on October 15th.  I've just watched the first season set in World War II before the Americans joined the British in their fight against Nazis. (If you want to watch Season 1, you'll need to subscribe to Masterpiece on Prime because only three episodes are available on the PBS site.)

I don't have the greatest memory for the names of outstanding actors, but her characters are memorable and nuanced, so I looked her up.  She's won  numerous awards for her acting on stage and screen.

After I finish Magpie Murders, I plan to watch Phantom Threads again and other movies and series she's starred in.  

Another English actor I love is Nicola Walker--who starred in the first four episodes of The Unforgotten. (All five seasons are available on PBS).   

Ten years later

When I was ten years younger....

I bounced back from travel sooner.

I celebrated my 65th birthday driving my Mini Cooper all the way to Portland and back, loving the winding roads, big trees and lookouts of Big Sur. It was that trip that started this blog, intended originally to describe my West Coast road trip.  

Days felt unlimited, a possible surprise around every bend. 

I met friends for lunch.  I got to keep Elena once a week.  Obama was President.  

I felt unstoppable, "The road goes on forever and the party never ends."

Now, it takes days after a trip to knit myself back to the practical things awaiting me at home. 

Homero is working to get the yard trimmed of dead stuff.  He's also moving rugs from house to house, repairing a broken door and a bathtub stopper, the knob impossible for these older hands to turn.   

My feet give out around 11:00 and ask for pills, ice, and a nap.  By mid-afternoon, I start a new day. What used to take two days now takes four; what used to take one day takes two.  I work around what can't be changed and change the things I can.  I read somewhere that this is imperative to graceful aging. 

I look forward to a day--maybe next week--when mornings are devoted to making things, instead of taking trips to grocery stores, the post office, Lowe's, the car wash, physical therapy....

I signed up for an online art class that begins in October.  There's a pull like gravity to the casita and all the papers and colors stored there. 

The trip to Virginia fills my heart in ways there are no words for, but I know now--approaching 75--that it's not necessary to find words to capture an extraordinary oasis of time and space. 

More Covid?

Day has tested positive for Covid.  Her first symptoms were on Friday when she was driving me to Dulles, so she's cleared to go back to school on Wednesday--I guess it's a five-day window.  

They are already making plans to go to Richmond next weekend and their spirits are good in spite of a trail of misadventures during the last few months.  

I'm taking Will's family out to dinner tonight, and he says if I have no symptoms, he's not worried.  With all the contradictory advice on the subject, I'm going to semi-isolate for a couple of days. 

CVS has the newest vaccines on Monday, FYI.  The pharmacist told me this is not a booster, but a vaccine for the newest variant and that everyone over 60 should get the vaccine.  

In Transition

 

The days between Being (Any) There and Being (Any) Here are transitional days--not There anymore, and not entirely Here yet.

Day called ten days ago  to ask me to come be with her through the effects of another kind of transition, and I flew there the next day.  It was a sweet ten days that made me imagine the olden days--when transitions for girls and women were celebrated by elder women in the tribe.  In the hurried days of modern life, families geographically scattered, we need more space and time to name the transitions of our lives with the people we love.  As a mother of a mother, I felt honored to be invited to share that space with her. 

Tom returned from his Portugal trip with COVID, though we thought at first it was a reaction to Thai food.  The next day he began coughing and spent the rest of the time in the basement, sleeping on the sofa and watching TV.  We said good-bye this morning from the top of the stairs to the basement.

He spent 27 hours in and near the Newark airport, a brace on the leg with the broken foot, on crutches.  But he arrived at midnight with his signature Tom Smile and passed out presents and souvenirs.  

Day taught me how to use a compass to make and then paint

mandalas, and she explained the concept of 

"sacred geometry"  she's studying.

It's fascinating.  I may tell you more about it later. 

Last night we drove to get Greek food.  From the back porch where we ate it, we could hear Greek music from a nearby apartment patio. 

And now, thanks to no delays, no weather issues, I am suddenly back in Texas, way cooler than when I left it.  Luci and I are reunited, but she seems to miss all the activity of dogs and family life.

Maybe I'm projecting.  I'm happy to be with her, but I miss Day and Tom and Tucker.  

A Covid-free day for Day and me

Tom tested positive this morning--possibly a souvenir from Portugal travels.

Fortunately, Day and I feel fine so far.  Tucker too.  If we stay symptom free, I'll head for Texas Friday morning. 

A good night in Virginia--and Texas too!

        Tom spent about 27 hours trying to get home after he landed in the U.S. Newark Airport was crazy, flights were grounded, and he wound up coming home last night about midnight on the train!  For all those 27 hours, he was on crutches!

         

Meanwhile, Luci and Elena are sharing one shirt in Helotes!

change of itinerary

Instead of being at the beach, I am in Virginia to spend a week or two with Day.  Tom returns tomorrow night from a work trip to Portugal and we three are going to Richmond this weekend to visit with the boys. 

Here is Tucker, my new love of a dog:

He's a bright little Havapoo--13 pounds, but way heftier and more opinionated than his delicate cousin, Luci.  He's diligent about guarding his pack and the property and he's less intent on cuddling than guarding and chewing on socks. 

A very sweet little guy! 

Luci, meanwhile, is staying with Will's family and enjoying his other cousins, Conway Twitty and Charlie. 

On Tuesday, before we even knew I'd be traveling to Virginia, Jan came over and helped me give her a bath--as she had been skunked during the night:

It's a real friend who'll come help you give a stinky dog a bath in the kitchen sink!

Luci's Night Time Encounter

Packing for a long-awaited beach retreat with three friends....

But first a bath for Luci in hydrogen peroxide, Dawn and baking soda.  Aunt Jannie gave me the recipe.

Last night she did her usual confident run-and-growl to a spot under Jan's bedroom window, acting like she's way bigger and stronger than she actually is.  She does this every night after dark while I stand vigil in the doorway.  She always returns empty handed, looking a little disappointed.

Last night was different.  Since the light outside the door is burned out, I was unable to see the scuffle or whatever, but I didn't need to see.  The strong scent of skunk told me the story.

Poor Luci.  She fastidiously grooms herself and she rolled in the dirt for a while trying to get rid of the smell.  When she came in, ears back, she looked embarrassed and refused to go out again for her usual middle of the night foray into the forest.

That's life, Luci.  This, too, shall pass. You'll be all ready for your three-day visit to Camp Jannie, just as soon as we get this smell off in the kitchen sink.