I have finally become a dot net thanks to our daughter and son-in-law. A gift from them was to pay my annual fee and our daughter set it up for me.
This spring has been extremely busy. He and I took a trip to San Dimas to see our son, his bride and our little California Dream. Then our daughter and and son-in-law welcomed our Yellow Rose of Texas into the world. Dream came to Texas to meet her little cousin. I had a grand couple of weeks!
I haven’t quite caught my breath from all the goings on over the past couple of months. Every weekend has been packed with activity. Evenings have been busy, too.
I have reached my step off point. I am not feeling well at all. Time to do some tending to me. Tonight will be a super hot bath and a long stretching session. Some pain reliever and an early lights out are in order as well.
Tomorrow is iffy for the 9 to 5. If the morning starts like this one, I’m out.
But, my Physician is with me. He will provide the healing required in His time.
Not much else to say right now. Just figured it was past time to set words on the screen. Especially with my new identification as rainingorchids.net.
My trip to Maui was multi-layered. Time with the children. Seeing the sights. Relaxing in the warm sunshine.
The unexpected layer was discovering myself not weak and old. I am not beyond pushing physical limits. I hiked two five mile trails. One was challenging. The other was not for the faint of heart.
The ridge hike in the rain and the mud is the one of which I am most proud. I was slow. But, my son was absolutely patient and encouraging. He guided my steps and we joked along the way. What a kind person he is! I did the hike without incident and without excess pain and fatigue during or afterward.
I didn’t and perhaps still don’t appreciate how hard I was rolled at Big Beach. I had some bruises I didn’t realize I had gotten until the places turned black and blue. It took days for all the sand to come out of my ears. I still have sand inside the lining of my swimsuit. I will have to work on getting it out when my package arrives in the mail. (I packed up extra clothes, shoes and my souvenirs in a box and am letting the mail lady bring it to me rather than having to check a bag at the airport.) I didn’t panic when tumbling under the wave. I just relaxed and waited for my head to come up and my feet go down. I didn’t feel any pain.
Again, I marveled at my endurance traveling home. I awoke especially early in the morning. I was unable to sleep at all on the plane during the overnight flight I took late that evening. I was up about thirty six hours. I wasn’t really exhausted feeling. I was sleepy by the time I had my bath of course. That is usual for me. But, I did not feel horrible as I expected.
Those long hikes didn’t hurt my feet. A good pair of shoes made the difference. My feet often hurt in the morning just from an ordinary day at work where I sit most of the day. I do not like wearing athletic shoes. But, I did buy two new pairs of casual work shoes last week and had a pedicure to take better care of my poorly treated appendages. They deserve the best care as reward for taking me along marvelous paths.
I discovered I am more physically durable than I believed. I did more and suffered effects less than I ever imagined possible. This body, even at this moment, has a spot or two of sharp pain and a spot or two aching just it has these many years. Nevertheless, I am pleasantly recalling my adventures in the middle of the wild blue Pacific. My body didn’t ache and my mind didn’t race. I longed only for certain amber eyes as the days blended into each other.
How does one live on island time here at home? How does one live physically challenging adventures here at home? How does one overcome the compulsion to push against the waves and get rolled rather than bobbing and floating, laughing and loving through the tumultuous days? There is a time to dive into the waves and a time to paddle along the stream. There is also a time to drift and notice the color of life. The color of my life is aquamarine. What color is yours?