First Christmas Post after Too-Long Away....
My Dear & Neglected LJ Friends --
I've had a client no-show -- a rare thing these days -- and I'm seizing the chance to briefly share the past four months.
First, the best news: Jane did very well camping! For all our life together, camping has been our time away with each other. Its small expense has allowed us to spend many weeks each year, just us two, in some of the States' most beautiful places. And we've very much camped together in everything outdoors -- putting up our tent, preparing our meals, hiking, relaxing, whatever.
We started simply, in late August, the week before the US Labor Day. This is generally a slow time for camping, locally. I picked a campground only 45 minutes away from our cabin. Our campsite was beside a singing mountain stream and in a nook of glaciated granite, pines & wildflowers. It truly was a perfect Rocky Mountain campsite.
I'd planned just four days, and I was ready to abort should it prove truly too much. After all, we were close to home, and if all Jane could manage was a day or so, that would be fine. The site was away from where we parked the car, down a trail & over a walking-bridge. I got Jane to the site and sitting down, and then I went back for maybe 10 to a dozen heavy shleps. In Jane's eyes, I saw both some confusion & frustration. She knew she should be helping, but she had no memory of what she should be doing. About my fourth shelp, she said as much, along with some worry, maybe fear that I was pushing myself too hard. (Jane is routinely worried about my health & my pushing -- over-worried, but given everything, understandably worried.) I set up our camp-couch -- a folding canvas/metal double seat where we've enjoyed sitting close & relaxing. But each time I'd schlep back, she was up & looking for me. Her frustration continued as I set up tent, sleeping bags, got water, began our lunch. I found the odd task where she could help. But again, the whole process was so unfamiliar, and she knew it shouldn't be.
And by the time supper dishes were cleaned & hung up to dry, and we were getting into our little tent, Jane had relaxed and was enjoying it being "just us two". We're enormously grateful for everything Les has done and continues to do for us. Without her, our life would be impossible -- no doubt. And we were both feeling a need for "just us two" time, which was the weeks-long norm before Jane's fall and which, beyond a few hours here & there, hasn't happened since. We're comfort campers in both eating & sleeping. We have several comfortable camp mattresses, feather sleeping-bags that fit together, and lots of pillows & blankets. A few years ago, we added a good electric lamp, allowing us to read in bed, one of our great joys. By evening, Jane was tired, but we spent some time reading in an essay by St. Augustine we'd enjoyed reading together a few years before.
After a long sleep -- long for both of us -- we got up slow & lazy, puttering around with breakfast. While Jane was still not over-active in helping, she did more. Most of all, she & I were enjoying being outdoors together. I'd planned no major hikes, nothing beyond being in camp, talking, reading, fixing meals -- just camping. After breakfast, By mid-day, I knew we would be fine. All the newness, all the moving around in the high mountains tired Jane, and she took an afternoon nap, which she often does at home, while I identified flowers & such around our campground. In the evening, we walked along a nearby level trail, through a mountain meadow with late-season flowers and even a few thimbleberries. (Small & dry tasting, not like Oregon thimbleberries.)
The third day, I took Jane out to South Park and into a network of roads from & to nowhere, and with no traffic & nothing along them -- mostly flat & straight. There for the first time since her fall, Jane drove. It's a great place for learning & re-leaning driving. (This is where I first taught my son to drive.) Starting out, Jane had some confusions & frustrations, which I'd expected and about which I had no worries. If she actually drove off the road (and she didn't), there was nothing but a 6 inch drop onto more flat, dry rocky ground. Within 30 minutes, she was able to back up, turn around and do all the basic moves with only the occasional blip.
She was really pleased with driving & with herself. "It comes back quickly," she said. "I can learn to drive again, I can feel it."
After an hour or so, we went up some more challenging & curvy mountain roads, where she did just fine. Little or no traffic -- maybe two cars in 30 minutes -- and the speed was slow, no more than 35 mph. We had lunch in a nearby Mexican cafe that has great home-made tamales, and then I drove on the busier highway. Afterwards, we drove farther out, onto the continental divide. Jane didn't walk much at 12,500 ft, but we both enjoyed the alpine tundra with its tiny colorful flowers. On the way back, we checked out a campsite for next year.
A very good day, one lifting both our spirits.
Jane drove part-way home, at speeds of almost 50 mph and with regular taffic, until she felt stressed. Les, when she found out, was horrified. She'd taken Jane off our car insurance and had told me -- I'd forgotten. (Sadly, I'm good at forgetting.)
But Jane & I had a great time together, and I quickly planned an 8-day camp three weeks later, this time in Bandelier National Monument near Santa Fe, New Mexico.
To be continued as time allows....
With love,
Jane, Les & avus
I've had a client no-show -- a rare thing these days -- and I'm seizing the chance to briefly share the past four months.
First, the best news: Jane did very well camping! For all our life together, camping has been our time away with each other. Its small expense has allowed us to spend many weeks each year, just us two, in some of the States' most beautiful places. And we've very much camped together in everything outdoors -- putting up our tent, preparing our meals, hiking, relaxing, whatever.
We started simply, in late August, the week before the US Labor Day. This is generally a slow time for camping, locally. I picked a campground only 45 minutes away from our cabin. Our campsite was beside a singing mountain stream and in a nook of glaciated granite, pines & wildflowers. It truly was a perfect Rocky Mountain campsite.
I'd planned just four days, and I was ready to abort should it prove truly too much. After all, we were close to home, and if all Jane could manage was a day or so, that would be fine. The site was away from where we parked the car, down a trail & over a walking-bridge. I got Jane to the site and sitting down, and then I went back for maybe 10 to a dozen heavy shleps. In Jane's eyes, I saw both some confusion & frustration. She knew she should be helping, but she had no memory of what she should be doing. About my fourth shelp, she said as much, along with some worry, maybe fear that I was pushing myself too hard. (Jane is routinely worried about my health & my pushing -- over-worried, but given everything, understandably worried.) I set up our camp-couch -- a folding canvas/metal double seat where we've enjoyed sitting close & relaxing. But each time I'd schlep back, she was up & looking for me. Her frustration continued as I set up tent, sleeping bags, got water, began our lunch. I found the odd task where she could help. But again, the whole process was so unfamiliar, and she knew it shouldn't be.
And by the time supper dishes were cleaned & hung up to dry, and we were getting into our little tent, Jane had relaxed and was enjoying it being "just us two". We're enormously grateful for everything Les has done and continues to do for us. Without her, our life would be impossible -- no doubt. And we were both feeling a need for "just us two" time, which was the weeks-long norm before Jane's fall and which, beyond a few hours here & there, hasn't happened since. We're comfort campers in both eating & sleeping. We have several comfortable camp mattresses, feather sleeping-bags that fit together, and lots of pillows & blankets. A few years ago, we added a good electric lamp, allowing us to read in bed, one of our great joys. By evening, Jane was tired, but we spent some time reading in an essay by St. Augustine we'd enjoyed reading together a few years before.
After a long sleep -- long for both of us -- we got up slow & lazy, puttering around with breakfast. While Jane was still not over-active in helping, she did more. Most of all, she & I were enjoying being outdoors together. I'd planned no major hikes, nothing beyond being in camp, talking, reading, fixing meals -- just camping. After breakfast, By mid-day, I knew we would be fine. All the newness, all the moving around in the high mountains tired Jane, and she took an afternoon nap, which she often does at home, while I identified flowers & such around our campground. In the evening, we walked along a nearby level trail, through a mountain meadow with late-season flowers and even a few thimbleberries. (Small & dry tasting, not like Oregon thimbleberries.)
The third day, I took Jane out to South Park and into a network of roads from & to nowhere, and with no traffic & nothing along them -- mostly flat & straight. There for the first time since her fall, Jane drove. It's a great place for learning & re-leaning driving. (This is where I first taught my son to drive.) Starting out, Jane had some confusions & frustrations, which I'd expected and about which I had no worries. If she actually drove off the road (and she didn't), there was nothing but a 6 inch drop onto more flat, dry rocky ground. Within 30 minutes, she was able to back up, turn around and do all the basic moves with only the occasional blip.
She was really pleased with driving & with herself. "It comes back quickly," she said. "I can learn to drive again, I can feel it."
After an hour or so, we went up some more challenging & curvy mountain roads, where she did just fine. Little or no traffic -- maybe two cars in 30 minutes -- and the speed was slow, no more than 35 mph. We had lunch in a nearby Mexican cafe that has great home-made tamales, and then I drove on the busier highway. Afterwards, we drove farther out, onto the continental divide. Jane didn't walk much at 12,500 ft, but we both enjoyed the alpine tundra with its tiny colorful flowers. On the way back, we checked out a campsite for next year.
A very good day, one lifting both our spirits.
Jane drove part-way home, at speeds of almost 50 mph and with regular taffic, until she felt stressed. Les, when she found out, was horrified. She'd taken Jane off our car insurance and had told me -- I'd forgotten. (Sadly, I'm good at forgetting.)
But Jane & I had a great time together, and I quickly planned an 8-day camp three weeks later, this time in Bandelier National Monument near Santa Fe, New Mexico.
To be continued as time allows....
With love,
Jane, Les & avus