In aging, there’s a tendency for one’s life to become humdrum, every day the same. And that’s all wrong! The last thing we want or need is for one day to duplicate the previous, stretching back and back ad nauseam. It sure messes with my memory when I can’t remember something because it’s exactly what I’ve done every day . . .
The older we get, the more we need to break patterns, not get stuck in them. I feel like I’ve been stuck in this house for a long time. So yesterday, I went hiking.
Wayne and I last really hiked back in 2019, while visiting a brother in Washington State. That was a tough climb, and it was hard for Wayne. Then Covid struck.
Yesterday’s climb was my first since then, “our maiden hike” as my hiking partner called it. Like me, she’s newly widowed, though her last hike was much more recent. The trail we aimed for was closed off for some reason, so we had to drive to another.
We didn’t go that far, but we did get up into the Sandias bordering Albuquerque. And oh, how peaceful to be out of sight and sound of the city, under a blue blue New Mexico sky.
Breaking other molds
A critique partner introduced me to a way to chart characters and themes in my novel, which she learned from a class taught by writer Kate Messner. Once I’ve finished with the initial analysis, I want to go back and refine the depth of each check mark. I love this confirmation of accomplishment and am revising with renewed enthusiasm.
Larkspurs
Ever since our first volunteer larkspur, I’ve encouraged them to return. This year there’s a small crowd—most not yet in bloom.
And Sophie?
Hmm, lavender and essence of . . .
My aging dog eats the same food and follows the same routine every day. For her, I think her nose provides new daily input. That’s certainly what she focuses on in our walks. Visiting the park may feel same-old, same-old to me—but I’m betting that Sophie feels otherwise.
Kate Harrington 