It makes for interesting days

January 4, 2011

Retirement sure gives one some odd days. Today was one of them: early morning quiet and meditation time, a couple of hours on the torture machine in the basement, getting some photo prints made with a 25-free-every-month card that came with a camera purchase, having a slow leak fixed on a tire … for free since I bought the tires there, picking up a Lionel locomotive from the repair shop following 64 years of trouble-free performance at Christmas time each year.

Certainly can’t complain about any of that. It makes for interesting days in this wonderful world of ours.

Anyway, back to work on Thursday.

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“A hawk!,” I thought.

January 3, 2011

It was the second day of the new year. Watching a football game at dusk, I noticed a large bird fly into a tree at the back edge of our yard. “A hawk!,” I thought.

Running upstairs, I got a much better look. What I saw didn’t resemble a hawk’s profile. The top of our china cabinet always holds a pair of 12 power binoculars. Taking a closer look, an owl!

We grabbed the new camera, a Christmas present from me to her, and attempted to catch a picture. The flash fired. Glare off the glass. How could I turn that off? A moment’s fiddling got it turned off.

On our lower level is a door to the patio. A good shot from that vantage point looked like a real possibility.

Walking out the door … luckily the motion detector didn’t kick on the flood lights … I was able to keep a tree trunk between me and that lovely bird.

I peered around the tree and squeezed off a picture. Zoomed in at 10x should give a nice look. The camera gives off a soft beep, just enough to attract the full and undivided attention of the owl.

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Perhaps it was the ambulance

January 1, 2011

Yesterday morning I took my last run of 2010. Severe weather was threatening the area. I stayed close-by.

Everything was going fine until I began my second mile. With no warning at all, my left leg collapsed, and I nearly went down. Has this happened before? Yes. But very rarely.

Actually, though, it has happened often enough so that I don’t rely on my legs to serve me well  in precarious situations. Climbing the Mayan pyramid at Chichen Itza, for example.

The pyramid actually looks quite accessible from the ground. Lots of people were going up and down. After watching for a while and working up some nerve, I approached the first step.

Facing me were many, many steps with no intermediate landings. A complete absence of anything to hang onto. OSHA would not have been happy. I decided I’d just start climbing and not look down until I had reached the top.

The climb was very easy. A steady, deliberate pace, and I was done. Oh, what a view from up there. It was worth the climb. Ruins in the foreground, a blue sky with puffy clouds, Yucatan jungle stretching to the horizon.

After looking around, enjoying the view, watching people huff and puff their way to the top, it was time to go back down. How was I going to do this? What looked quite benevolent from below, suddenly presented itself as a nearly vertical drop to the ground when viewed from above.

Oh, boy! This was going to be tricky. One stumble and I would bounce down the stone steps all the way to the bottom. Climbers coming up in my path of descent would join me going down,  felled like so many bowling pins. The odds of surviving such a fall, either alive or able-bodied, were slim.

With my “trick knee,” for lack of a better description, I decided to sit down and proceed one step at a time. I was even worried about falling as I attempted to sit on the top-most step in preparation for my downward journey. Perhaps it was the ambulance sitting off to the side in the shade of a tree that focused my attention.

Well, anyhow, I made it back down. We have heard that climbers are no longer allowed on the pyramid. Unverified at this point, but understandable.

All of this came to mind as I finished my last run of 2010.

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What a pleasant surprise

December 25, 2010

What a pleasant surprise to find myself in the choir loft following a 32 year absence. Our choir director wanted to expand the usual 9:00 Mass choir to form a Festival Chorus for Christmas Eve Mass. A few practices and a single commitment,  something I can handle, and I signed up.

Back in Muscatine, Iowa, during the late 70s, St. Mathias Catholic Church was where I sang. The weekly practice suited me and gave me something outside the home other than going to the plant every day. The nights were often very cold and bleak as I drove to evening practice.

One of our pieces last evening was In the Bleak Mid Winter. Amen to that. But in this town, the fresh snow for the day was bright, it wasn’t too cold out, the roads were good, the parking lot was plowed, the church was filled.

Even considering we arrived at 8:50 p.m. and left at 11:30, it was a very nice way to celebrate the Feast of the Nativity. And the ad hoc group sang pretty well.

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A cup of coffee has much appeal

December 19, 2010

Noticing the front doors of homes along my running route has become part of my routine. The variety of colors is more than one would expect, some subdued, most tasteful, an occasional one – shocking. One of the homes, a house with a very steep roof built for a snowy winter somewhere else, had a purple door which looked surprisingly good with the off-white brick and dark brown shingles.

Today, I saw a door so yellow that one couldn’t help but look at it. I mean really, really yellow … YELLOW!! An arrow-shaped neon sign at the curb would have added nothing to the visibility of that entryway. For a few steps along the sidewalk, I wondered if they knew that the store will mix a color for you; that it isn’t necessary to buy the color off the shelf. But maybe they like it.

As I ran along, I recalled a door I saw during a run a couple of years ago. When I got home I said, “There is a door on a house in a neighboring subdivision that is the same color as the doors up at the cabin. It really looks good.”

“Yeah, I know, I’ve seen it. That’s the same color as our front door.”

“And it really looks great! I love that color more and more every time I see it.” (That’s the color of our front door? How long has it been that color?)

————

I’m trying to establish some regularity to my aerobic exercising, paying more attention to time and making a commitment to head out the door around 8:00 a.m. Prison days, Monday and Thursday, are out since I leave too early. Afternoon or early evening running has never been my thing. Cross-training days, Tuesday and Saturday, are out. That leaves Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings.

On the downside, it takes little to keep me in the warm confines of my living room. Oh, it seems too windy, too cold, a threat of rain, too many icy patches, and a cup of coffee while looking out the window has much appeal.

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Reflection of His mercy

December 18, 2010

Seven offenders and I spent 45 minutes yesterday sharing what the following Merton quote means in our lives.

The solitary life is a life in which we cast our care upon the Lord and delight only in the help that comes from Him. Whatever He does is our joy. We reproduce His goodness in us by our gratitude. (Or – our gratitude is the reflection of His mercy. It is what makes us like Him.)  – Thomas Merton

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