The Mountain

 Since we postponed the trip to visit my parents, Beloved Husband and I decided to have a little adventure. We chose to go climb Guadalupe Peak (which we had climbed twice already, years ago), and we thought, let's camp at the campsite on the mountain. We'd only camped at the base of the mountain before; camping up on the mountain would require carrying tent, accoutrements, food, and extra water up the trail. We planned out what we would need, packed our backpacks, and off we went.

It was... quite the climb.

The trail was familiar in places -- didn't we take a family photo right there? I know Cherished Friend and I stopped for a rest over there. I know we have a picture of one or two of the Offspring sitting on that very rock --  and yet it was so steep, so long, and so much more difficult than I remembered. (Granted, nine years had passed since the last time we'd gone to the summit.) We had to rest frequently. The sun was strong and the breeze was small. I was determined, though. And we did. 

Beloved Husband told me afterward that he was waiting for me to throw in the towel and decide to turn around and go back. That never crossed my mind, though. The plan was to get to the top, eventually. And we succeeded.

It was a worthwhile trip. I am glad I did it, even if I didn't necessarily enjoy the hike. (At all.) It was the first time Beloved Husband and I had planned a trip together in a long while, and it was good to do something together. And there was a lot of satisfaction in not having to think much, or to do anything except hike and rest. It was a slightly bittersweet journey, with reminiscences of earlier days juxtaposed against the knowledge that it's unlikely I will ever climb to that peak again.

The view from the top was spectacular. The area is so much greener than usual -- the heavy rains that we have had recently have caused everything to bloom spectacularly. Glorious. I will hold on to that view in my mind's eye for a long, long time. 

Trail.

View from the campsite.

Views in all directions.

Lovely tree.

Trail fit for a mountain goat.

Spectacular.

Glorious.

So green.

Bridge.

Very plummet-y bit near the top.

There it is!

Peak.

The end.

Salt Flats

First time I have ever seen them full of water. 

Highest Point in Texas

Scenic

Boat, Oceanside

 When Pandemic despair begins to creep in, we have some lovely views of Oceanside as consolation. 

Photos Copyright 2021, Mediocria Firma.

All rights reserved. Used with gratitude.

Postponed

 Herself speaks.

I awoke this past Saturday to a lengthy text from my lovely father (whose texts are always lengthy). Beloved Husband and I had been planning to travel to see him and Mom shortly. His message, though, expressed concern about the delta virus and the health of everyone involved (those of us traveling, and those of us being visited), and recommended that we postpone the trip. 

Alas.

He is right, I know. The delta variant is of significant concern, and despite the fact that we are all vaccinated, the risks are too great to take a 9-hour trip through three different airports and on several planes with hordes of strangers with unknown COVID status.

And so we postponed.

I have Many Feelings: worry about the risk of the delta variant; concern about the frail health of my parents, who are both in their 80s, and about being able to see them in person again; sadness about the fact that in postponing this trip, I am also acknowledging that it is not safe to travel to Florida to see Cherished Friend any time soon; and above all, anger. 

It is more than mere anger, though. It is deep, frustrated, impotent rage at the people who will not step up and do what needs to be done to protect others and themselves. Anti-maskers. Anti-vaxxers. Conspiracy theorists. Politicians and individuals who have made a public health issue into some kind of warped freedom issue. No. This is not political. It is personal. Time for you all to give a shit about your fellow human beings for a change. But no. 

I wonder whether I will ever not be angry at People again.

I wonder when I will see my parents, my siblings, my closest friend, in person again. 

I know it could be worse. Pandemically speaking -- knock wood -- things have mercifully gone fairly well. 

Still. I am not sure how long we are capable of bearing this weight of anger and grief and frustration, before a sense of hopeless will begin to creep in.

It's a silent, socially distanced, internal struggle. 

One day at a time. 

Mystery 'Pillar

What are these caterpillars? One was outside. Three were IN THE HOUSE. 

NO, sirs/madames. Stay outside where you belong.

 

Belated

Had a tasty, belated anniversary dinner. So colorful. Takeout, because Plague. 

It was nice to have a meal together. 

Classic Kermit

 I shall never tire of listening to Kermit the Frog sing Rainbow Connection.

So pure. So hopeful. 

Sing for us, Kermit.

Thirty

 Herself speaks.

Tuesday was the 30th anniversary of Beloved Husband's and my wedding. Thirty years. That's a long time to be married. I feel as though we deserve a medal or something.

He had to leave on a business trip midday that day. He spent the previous evening packing/preparing, and went to work for a few hours that morning, before leaving just after lunchtime. I am not sure when he will be back -- perhaps this evening, perhaps tomorrow. With a little luck, we'll be able to have a celebratory meal in honor of our anniversary this coming weekend. 

In some kind of "the Universe is Testing Me" situation, the following things also happened Tuesday: one of the wheels of the garage door fell off of its tracks; and the landscapers (who have been ever-so-slowly and honestly, rather sloppily, repairing the sprinkler system) managed to blow a fuse/trip a circuit, so that none of the outside outlets work, nor do the outlets in the garage -- including the one hosting the garage fridge. And meanwhile, I had worked with one of the Offspring to coordinate car maintenance for them this week, with the assumption that they could use my car if needed, and I could in turn use Beloved Husband's truck; but due to the nature of the business trip, he needed to take the truck. 

Oy.

I tried for about 45 minute to reposition the garage door wheel back on the track, but without success. Fortunately, I was able to close the door, and I can just park outside until it is resolved. An annoyance, but not terrible. I tried off an on for about an hour and a half over the past two days to resolve the circuit breaker issue, but no amount of my manipulating the circuits or the GFIs I could find solved the problem. Again, an annoyance, but not life-threatening. (The main difficulty with these two problems was the limbo-ing around the things in the garage to get to where I needed to stand to tackle the issues. That was capital-F Frustrating.) And the Offspring and I coordinated our schedules to share my car. 

The hardest part of all was perhaps not giving in to the temptation to be annoyed that Beloved Husband had to be away, and thus was unavailable, to help with the issues. What good would it do, to be angry? None. Feelings with nowhere to go are unhelpful.

One thing that I have learned after thirty years of marriage, is this:

The current social mindset that one marries a person who is one's Everything, is absolutely terrible. 

It's romantic, in a way, to want to portray one's spouse as friend, lover, co-parent, all one ever needs. But that is a tremendous burden to place on another person. And realistically, it is a burden that cannot be carried. There will be times when a spouse will be busy, out of town, or otherwise not physically or emotionally available. Sometimes there isn't bandwidth to come to the aid of another person, or even to listen empathetically. This is especially true for certain types of professions, such as the one that Beloved Husband and I have. 

It's up to each person to build their own support structure to provide assistance, a listening ear, a meal, if their spouse cannot do so. It's necessary.

This might be the ultimate issue: I need to work on my own village. The number of people I can comfortably call in times of need, can be counted on one hand with fingers left over; and the number of people who are in physical proximity to me and could conceivably turn up to render aid are nearly nil. 

So much easier said than done. 

Really, I would like not to have to reach out to anyone else, ever. That's a bit of a lonely existence, though. Plus, I like to help other people; surely there are individuals like me, would would be happy to help me on occasion? One would hope. I don't know. 

This all sounds very much like a "me" problem. 

I'll work on it.

After I fix the garage door, and the circuits. 

Mask Mandate Reinstated

I cannot fathom the thought process of individuals who are not willing to put a mask on their faces. 

We live in a community, people. A global community. We need to protect other people, and ourselves. 

Put it on. 

Tic Tac Toe

Plus a poop. Because so much poop. 

Back Again

Road Trip

Terms of Service

I have some serious doubts about the "flirting" unit in Duolingo. 

Acephalic

Medical lingo today. Nothing overly sensitive for the squeamish, though. Let's talk migraines! 

First, let's put a name to it: Acephalic migraine. 

"Silent migraine." Migraine without headache. (Though I do also have headache -- it's just that the headache is not the predominant problem.) All the aura. So much aura. So much unpleasant aura. 

That appears to be the situation.

-----

The first migraine preventative -- topiramate -- did help a bit, although it came with an absolutely crushing fatigue that made it not a tenable solution. (And technically, it was really the second preventative, since the propanolol prescribed by the cardiologist is actually also used as a migraine preventative. It did absolutely squat preventative-wise, though.) We have now moved on to a monthly injectable preventative. It might take up to six months to see results. They showed me how it works at the doctor's office, and I get to inject myself next month. I am absolutely willing if it solves the migraine issue. We shall see.

-----

I am pretty sure I have, at this point, fallen into the chronic pain/chronic illness category. I do not remember the last time I felt well for more than a day. Or for a full day, even. Some days are better than others, it's true. Other days are very hard, and despair comes with the headache. Will it never stop?

I don't know how to communicate this to other people, or whether I even should. What difference would it make? Being in pain and/or feeling unwell doesn't relieve me of my obligations or my responsibilities. Must plow on, regardless. 

Perhaps I can start with cutting myself a little slack for being less productive than I would like to be. Right now, a bit more rest, a bit more tolerance of untidiness, a bit more understanding of sitting-on-the-couch-doing-nothing, might help. 

I feel as though I should ask for help. I don't know what to ask for specifically, though, or from whom. I just need.... relief.

Someday. I hope. 

Lechuga

 The buns have grown, and are nearly adults now. Good buns! 

Fuzzy

We did a little shopping yesterday (we were out of lettuce, unspeakable in a house full of rabbits). Every time we pass by a display of fuzzy blankets, I think of all of my canine companions.

My heart. It hurts.

I miss them.

Rest well, my faithful furry friends. 

Fifty-four: Almost a Wizard

I have turned fifty-four. It's an acceptable age to be. 

I do wish I were turning into a wizard, though.

A Few Words

 Herself speaks.

I don't write about the Offspring much, because they are young adults and entitled to their privacy. I wanted to take a moment, though, to say a few words about the two Offspring who are currently under the roof, since they will be moving forward to other places soon (whether it be in a week, or a month or two),  and I am feeling a bit wistful.

-----

Last night when I went upstairs to bed, Offspring the Third went upstairs at the same time. He paused as he walked by my door and said, "the hinge pin is coming out." Sure enough, it was. He turned around, disappeared back downstairs, and returned with a mallet. Tap, tap, tap. "There, all set." He tapped the other two hinge pins on the door for good measure while he was at it. Then he explained the mallet to me, how it was apparently filled with little lead pieces so that there was no bounce-back or damage to the surface. I learned something new. And then he bade me goodnight.

It is these interactions that I will miss the most when he goes back to school. He is helpful, and takes care of things that he sees need doing without my even asking (and before I even notice they need doing). He explains things in a way that is interesting and informative. It's just delightful. What a good egg he is. 

-----

This afternoon I was chatting with Offspring the Second. He's making Plans, and it's clear that he's being very thorough and thoughtful about his planning processes. He thinks of things I wouldn't have considered, and it's so helpful to hear his point of view and to look at the way things are done from another angle. He is so patient, and has been so diligently working toward his goals, despite the Pandemic being an absolute Horror Show in so many ways. 

He is so kind to the bunny trio, and so patient with the noise and the clutter of other people in the household. I try to be like him, he's a shining example of perseverance and good humor and thoughtfulness. What a good egg he is.  

-----

I know I'm biased because I am their mother, but I think that my Offspring are all genuinely lovely people. I hope they find every happiness. 

Slippers

TikTok Wisdom

I was idly roaming through TikTok while waiting for something today, and came across this video. I'll post it in its entirety below, but in case it is removed, the Creator is @catieosaurus, and the relevant text goes like this:

If you love somebody with ADHD or another neurodivergency and you often have trouble communicating, I have a pro tip for you. It's going to sound silly, but hear me out. Establish a secret code word or gesture, or both, for the following three things: 

number one: I have an immediate thought in my head and I need to say it as soon as you are done talking.

number two: I'm overwhelmed or overstimulated and I need assistance with that in some way.

number three: I am paralyzed by indecision and I really need you to make a choice on this.

The Creator goes on to explain why these things are helpful and nice. 

I had to pause, though, after she pointed out number two: number two: I'm overwhelmed or overstimulated and I need assistance with that in some way.

That's a thing!?

One of the reasons I've suspected that I fall on the autism spectrum somewhere, is that I am aware of occasional situations when I feel overwhelmed or overstimulated. Since I'm an adult, I do what I imagine all adults do in such overwhelming/overstimulating situations: we suck it up and do what must be done and then cry/process/ruminate in the privacy of our cars or at home by ourselves later. Isn't that what everyone does?  

But now I'm to understand that... it's possible to ask for help in those situations? And that someone might actually help? In the moment? Help with processing/managing emotions? People help other people do this? Right then? Without question or criticism? Just... help? 

Why does this blow me away? 

Perhaps I can do this for myself - establish my own private gesture for when I am overwhelmed or overstimulated. If I can recognize it in the moment, that will be my first step in being able to acknowledge it, step back and help myself.

Japan

It sounds like it would be an interesting actual walk. 

Peekaboo

Feisty

Mr. Bun-Dad is feeling much better after his neuter, and is quite feisty these days. Good boy. 

Selfies

 Herself speaks.

I posted a new hair selfie to Facebook yesterday, that showed my face in addition to the new hair style. Hairdo? Coiffure? How does one describe hair these days? A headshot, as it were. Awkward. But it was what I look like, with enough blurring and good lighting. 

I know a lot of people consider selfies to be vanity. (I have some trouble with them sometimes myself, depending on the photo) There was purpose to my posting, though: to come to terms with who I am, and how I look, at this point in my life. 

I turn 54 in a week. That's... not young. It's not old, necessarily. But it's past the bloom of youth, there is no doubt. Like many women around my age, I struggle a lot with body issues and body image issues (two very different creatures). 

On the one hand, we have perimenopause, migraines, stretch marks and scars; that extra bit of weight that it is increasingly difficult to shed; embers of desire that are slower to ignite and need patience and encouragement; small glitches in various systems that need addressing and occasional medications. On the other hand, we have fears about loss of youthfulness, invisibility of middle age, lack of desirability, worries and fears both large and small, that crowd our brains and our hearts and keep us from letting go our doubts and enjoying moments. These are commonalities of so many women like me. 

Once upon a time, when I was young and bright-eyed, with clear skin and taut flesh, I dreamed of being found attractive not just for my body (which met enough societal standards to be the target of men looking to see whether I was an easy lay), but for my intellect, my personality, my self -- for I, like all young women, was taught that men only wanted one thing. It was a fantasy to be desirable in all ways - body AND mind. 

Now in the heart of middle age, those naive dreams have been replaced by a quiet inversion. After years of working hard on who I am as a human being -- through raising other small humans, learning my own flaws, and trying hard to do better and to grow personally and professionally -- I am a bit more comfortable with who I am as an individual. Most of the time, I like who I am as a person. I know my flaws, and I know how I could do better, and I continue to try. I assume on an intellectual level that my mind is worthy of love. (Whether I am ready to accept such love is another matter, for another day's discussion.)  I'm OK. 

It's my body that I have the most trouble with. It's... not so loveable. 

This is why I took a selfie. (Or two. Or twenty. Until I found one that I could tolerate looking at for a full two seconds without cringing.) And then I posted it. So that I could acknowledge my physical form publicly -- to see myself through others' eyes, instead of just through my own. And so that I can reflect on the fact that this is me, and I am within that bodily vehicle, and that despite its difficulties, it serves me reasonably well. So perhaps, even though it isn't physically particularly alluring, it is still worthy of love anyway.