Better late than dead on time

Almost a year ago I embarked on what was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime with my sister. We had planned a spectacular road trip, starting with family in Birmingham and continuing with a road trip to Scotland with our cousin Lynne and my childhood friend Janet. We had spent hours online together planning the details of the journey and were so excited for it. Unfortunately, Anne had a health crisis right before she was supposed to leave on the plane from New Zealand so she stayed home. It was shattering for both of us, but more so, obviously, for Anne. She hasn't been back to England since we left when she was eight, so it was deeply disappointing for her. 

I forged on, discouraged that I would now be making the trip (which had mostly been planned for Anne's benefit) without her. I was, of course, happy to be seeing family and Jan, but the absence of Anne's joy was a bitter pill to swallow.

I arrived at Birmingham Airport via Iceland. We usually fly to England with Iceland Air as they have the best prices and convenient airports. This time I bid on last-minute upgrades so Jeff and I both flew the longest legs First Class. Did I sprawl across the seat and take full advantage of all of the perks? You betcha I did! I even moved my carcass to where there were two empty seats next to each other so that I could sprawl across both of them! 

Lynne picked me up at the airport and spent the next few days spoiling me to death. We went walking several times along the lovely bucolic paths that wind through the area in which they live. We drove out to see the aunties because I couldn't wait until our planned lunch date on Monday to see them. Poor Aunty Marg had injured her hand very badly when her kitchen cupboard fell off the wall and it wasn't healing well. But she was still as ornery and lovely as ever. Uncle Fred had died since my last visit and he was sorely missed. Aunty Con was as chipper as ever and filled my head with stories of her life with Uncle Dick. I love these ladies so much. 

On Sunday Lynne and I went to church. I wrote about the service on facebook and I am going to just quote that, because I wrote it on the same day and I was so delighted by the whole thing that I can't improve on the sentiments:

Only my Mormon friends who know me well will appreciate how happy church attendance made me today. My cousin and I walked to church and it was a long enough walk that I knew I wouldn't be able to wear dress shoes, so I donned my trusty walking shoes and a pair of pants (because even I can't wear walking shoes with a dress) and off we went. I sat and enjoyed watching people file into this small chapel, listening to the Brummie accents and feeling quite at home. Then right before the meeting, one of the men on the stand asked if anyone played the organ or piano. I hesitantly raised my hand because, you know, wearing pants, but no one else seemed to care so up I went. So today I played the organ in church on Easter Sunday while wearing a pair of not very dressy pants. And several people came up to me afterwards and thanked me sincerely for playing, And no one mentioned the pants or even looked at them.

Then the first musical number was In the Garden, sung a cappella by a German mother and daughter. They sang the first verse in German and the mother cried. The second number was a duet sung by a young husband and wife, The Old Rugged Cross, accompanied by guitar. And no one raised an eyebrow. It was glorious. I sing these two hymns frequently with my Alzheimer's groups and it always elicits emotional connections for them, but I have never heard them in our church before. 

And last, but not least, my dear cousin sitting next to me.

Best Easter Sunday ever.

And that remains one of my best memories of my journey.

We met up with the aunties and cousin Mandy for lunch in a very noisy restaurant. It was deliciously uproarious. Here is Con, listening intently.

Margy and Pat.

Lynne had been unsure of whether or not she would be able to join Jan and me on the trip as well, as Richard had been very sick after their trip to Dubai, but he was recovering nicely so I was hopeful that she would change her mind. Then several other family members got sick and she decided she needed to stay and take care of them. I was disappointed again and feeling guilty for being completely selfish in worrying more about my own disappointment than everyone else. Guilt is not a pleasant companion. 

Jan was very brave and agreed to drive her car, as the original plan was for Lynne to drive Richard's car. She had little experience driving such long distances as those we had planned. Steve had done most of the driving, as husbands are wont to do. Steve had also passed since our last visit and was sadly missed. We left on Tuesday morning, April 18th, by way of the M6 north toll road. Jan decided toll roads are a good thing because there was much less traffic than the regular motorways. Less traffic is good. Our destination was the Lake Country and then on to Carlisle for the night. 

We stopped off at Ullswater Lake at Glenridding and did a smallish hike. Jan does a lot of tramping and is prone to leave me in the dust, hence the many photos of her back as she walks ahead of me. 

Ullswater Lake is the second largest lake in the Lake District. It's not very populated but is a popular destination for those with sailing boats and, of course, trekkers. We started at Glenridding, which suffered severe storm damage in 2015. The effects were still apparent in some places.

We begin our walk.

I rather loved these sheep.

I felt rather lucky to be here in the Lake District again. Life slows down here and everything is green and mossy.

There she goes.

And I am huffing and puffing in the rear.

And the view from the top was lovely.

And there were lambies.

After our wee walk we drove to Monkcastle for the night, where we had booked an airbnb flat. It was a grand country house on a farm of sorts and we think our flat was a converted stable. We had meant to stop and buy some meat for our dinner but hadn't passed any likely places, so were a bit puzzled about what we would eat for dinner. Luckily, the nice host offered us some fresh broccoli rabe from her garden, so we cooked it with some of my gluten-free pasta that I had brought along and enlivened it with butter from the fridge. It wasn't exactly gourmet fare but it tasted good to our hungry tongues.

The flat was adorable and we happily retired to our separate bedrooms after a walk around the property. I read for a while and noticed an intermittent beep from the hallway. Jan had removed her cochlear implant so was undisturbed. As I tried to fall asleep the beeping grew more insistent and it was clear that I was to get no sleep until I fixed the noise. I finally narrowed the beep down to a smoke alarm in the hallway, which was right over the stairwell. I tried calling the host, then knocking on their door (it was after midnight by then) and nothing was giving me joy. I attempted to stand on a chair and reach the alarm to take out the battery, but decided it wasn't worth risking my life. Jan was still sleeping and oblivious and I kind of hated her for it.

The next morning, after no sleep, we told the host of the problem and she was mortified. I was almost delirious from lack of sleep but the good thing is she refunded our money. It's just as well Jan was the driver, so we set off for Glasgow and the beginning of our Scotland adventure via Carlisle and Gretna Green.

Don't be diggin' my grave just yet

I've long decried our culture's emphasis on physical appearance, and in many ways I've refused to follow the accepted norms of aging women. 

I don't dye my hair.

I rarely wear makeup, except for a bit of lip gloss most mornings. Chapstick is my weapon of choice.

Skinniness has never been my goal, although I did spend the first forty years of my life being mostly on the slim side. Besides, the mere mention of a diet causes me to suddenly have a self-defeating ravenous appetite. 

And let me say right here, a certain percentage of my unwillingness to put a large amount of effort into my appearance is pure laziness. And a bit of angst that men are held to a different standard than we women. But I truly believe that our worth is determined by our good acts and by what is in our hearts and souls, and that is what should shine from our faces. But if your makeup and well-coiffed hair make you happy, you go ahead and keep on with it. We all draw our own lines in the sand, and that's how it should be. I suppose my wish for all of us is that we could feel free to be our unadorned ourselves, without the artifices that modern society has imposed upon us and without somehow feeling inferior.

I admire women who climb mountains at the age of 90 but I've never really aspired to be one of them. I am impressed with myself when I do an eight-mile hike or ride my bike anything over ten miles. Or climb a volcano, even if I did break my leg on the way down. I tell myself, at least it was on the way down!

But here's the thing. Lately, I have packed on the weight. If I gain any more, I will have to find wider leggings, and that would be just sad! When I look in the mirror with my glasses on, all I see are wrinkles. Droopy eyes. Graying hair. Saggy tummy and everything else. So I feel old and unattractive. And sometimes I just have to give myself a kick in the rear and remember that I can still go out and conquer mountains and muddy trails and pretty much anything else that comes my way. I may not look as cute as I used to but I can still live life to the fullest. I've been told that my smile is my best asset, so I'm going to use it. Lots! And I'm going to blog about the adventures so that I don't forget about them. Because you know, the memory ain't what it used to be either.

Last week, Jeff and I were on our own for Thanksgiving for the first time in almost 38 years of marriage. At first, I thought it would be okay to cook a small dinner just for the two of us. We had thought about going out to the Ranch, as some people were cooking a community dinner, but I had to work on Friday. Then I was able to do the group earlier in the week and so we drove out to central Oregon on Thursday morning. We met the Bradys down at the Senior Center and had a nice lunch, smoked turkey with all of the trimmings. Afterwards, we went over to see their partly finished house and then went home to relax at Vista House for the rest of the day. 

On Friday morning, Bryce and Brenda came over for a late breakfast and then we drove to the Metolius River with the intention of hiking about five miles round trip from the campground to the fish hatchery. And we did! It took us about an hour and a half to get to the hatchery, and less than an hour to get back to the car park. Two factors influenced the discrepancy. On the way there, some of us had to keep stopping to take creative photographs. And talk to fishing guides. On the way back, we were ravenous and highly motivated by the thought of buying dinner in Sisters on the way home.

There were lots of downed trees. This one was unusual because of the large rocks entwined in its roots.

The sign warned us of a detour around an unstable tree, but it took us a while to get to it.

There was a sign at the beginning of the trail that said it was the way to Wizard Springs, but I didn't think anything of it. And then we came upon it. It was actually quite impressive, as the water springs right out of the rocks and feeds the volume of the river.

There were many large trees in the river, almost always causing more white water in the already tumultuous torrent. I do love walking beside a raging river.

This tree was a mystery. It looked like a recent fall and the wood was shredded. We wondered if it was lightning, but there was no blackened wood. Bears and Sasquatch have also been suggested.

We arrived at the hatchery and the best part was when Brenda got up close and personal with the incense cedar in order to smell it.
It just smelled like wood to me but maybe I didn't get cozy enough with it.

We strode back with gusto and it felt great to be walking through the woods again. 

And so I will stop comparing myself to the extreme fitness types and be grateful for the many things I can still do. And then I will do them. Preferably with like-minded and fun friends!