Summer Solstice: Leaving, Arriving

There’s a new post on Daughter on Duty.

We have arrived at the longest day. We will take a breath tonight, to boast and toast with friends around a fire, weave flowers into our hair and dance. Tomorrow we turn our steps to the journey back toward the shortest day. I’m wondering, as I turn into my 66th year today, how my life might be different at the winter solstice.

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Another Hospitalization, Another Birthday, Another Round with Hospice

There’s a new post on Daughter on Duty.

It was a big week. Mama did a 40-hour tour of duty in the ER and hospital with Rebecca and me as ’round-the-clock support staff. Forty-eight hours post discharge we celebrated her 101st birthday with family, a few old friends, several fellow residents at the Manor, and cupcakes and musical guests.

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The Sky is Calling

New post on Daughter on Duty.

It’s a milestone summer: 65, Medicare, 5 years back here on the hill, the beginning of my new business venture, a new driver’s license with—goddess willing—a photo of myself I can stand to look at for the next five years (I’ll let you know next week). I celebrated the beginning of the season by opening up the sky.

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Adventure Log: Dry Creek

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Dateline:
June 4, 2017
Dry Creek, Olympic National Forest, Lake Cushman
8.4 miles RT

I finally got out of town for an adventure. Between elder care and baby care and really crappy weather, it’s been a long time. Of course there have been other distractions as well: my garden in the meadow, my mother’s gardens at the house, my sister’s garden at the house is still unweeded (damn creeping Jenny), tree trimming, trail clearing, Airbnb (which has been quite successful, meaning lots of laundry and muffin-baking). But today, hiking.

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Lake Cushman

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Swiss Family Robinson. The first 1/2 mile the trail goes through private property at the edge of the ONF.

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Columbine

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Bleeding Heart

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There are several dry creeks, but the title “creek” is not dry. Dry Creek ford. I did not. Ford.

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Sword fern

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Lake Cushman

Flora & Fauna Friday

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I bid farewell yesterday to some of Mama Fir’s beautiful boughs and opened up the sky to valley, mountain, and sunrise worship (and hawk and eagle viewings). My father used to keep the fir trimmed up. He’s been gone 22 years, and the house has become increasingly entombed and claustrophobic. I wasn’t aware of the elephant sitting on my chest until it fell away with the branches, and my heart expanded six tear-inducing sizes. I’m breathing deeper. Ommmmm.

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Still huge. Thank you, Mama Fir.