let's go peek in the windows*

Even though Rufus and I hurry out every night as soon as I clean up after dinner, it is inexorably darker each night than the one before. We usually leave the house around 7:00 and are back before 7:30. Of course I know by December it will be quite dark out at that time, but hopefully we will be used to it by then. I am trying to memorize where all the uneven places in the sidewalk are now so that I don't trip, as our neighborhood is surprisingly poorly-lit. People don't walk much, I guess, particularly after dark.

One of the things I love about being out and about in a neighborhood at that time of day is that I can peek in the lighted windows of the houses as we walk by them. I have always been fascinated by that magical time late in the day after people turn the lights on in their houses but before they pull the drapes. The small town where I grew up had a well-known gay man who, surprisingly, was well-liked by the community. If I walked by his house in the early evening, I would always see him and his partner seated at a table by the front window, having dinner together. They were the picture of normalcy, and I learned something from that even at an early age.

I also learned a lot about how to decorate a home from observing how other people had decorated theirs. There was no attempt at an attractive decor in the house where I grew up, and as a child I was fascinated by the tableaux I saw through lighted windows as we walked downtown in the evening or as I accompanied my dad on a walk to the neighborhood carry-out for a six-pack. I particularly loved to see a small lit lamp on a table in front of a window or an overstuffed chair with a gooseneck lamp for reading right next to it. I loved the striped wallpaper in dining rooms and the cheery curtains framing bright kitchen windows - all the things we never had when I was growing up. I wonder if children from happy families peer so yearningly at other people's lives.

I still love to peek in at prints over mantelpieces and dimly-lit stairways leading up into darkness, but I also enjoy turning up our own driveway and seeing a comfortable-looking room bright with color and full of books and pottery and prints on the walls, and lit by a lamp in the front window. I don't have to keep walking past this home. It's mine.

*This may be such an inside reference that no one gets it anymore but me. I don't know if that's sad or just pathetic.

5 good things

I think it is important for me to remember (and share) good things in my daily life. This may be a recurring feature on my blog - depends on how many good things I can think of, I guess.

1. the beautiful fall weather when I took Rufus for a walk this morning.

2. the fact that I am home to take Rufus on walks on beautiful fall mornings.

3. the (almost) week that Julie and Andrew spent with us.

4. the upcoming weekend when Tom and Kristy will be here to celebrate Tom's birthday.

5. the fact that our children and their significant others like us and enjoy spending time with us.

you're as young as you feel

I think we all tend to grow more reflective as an impending birthday draws closer. I had an interesting conversation with Tom last night on that subject, and I hope he won't mind if I share it. (If you hate this, T, just tell me and I will delete it.)

Tom was telling me that on his birthday last year, he realized that he had become the age that Ben was when he was born. I think it freaked him out a bit, and he told me that he felt totally unprepared to become a parent even now, a year later. "I'm still a kid myself," he said, "I have so much growing up to do yet." I hastened to agree with him - heck, yes, he is still a kid. My kid. And Kristy is a kid and Julie and Andrew and all their other same-aged friends are still just kids. That is my emotional response to the thought of any of them becoming parents.

When I look at it rationally, however, they are all at least in their mid-20s heading into their late 20s now. The same ages Ben and I were when they were born. None of them are emotionally-stunted or immature, but they seem so much younger to me than we did at the same age. Why is that? I think one reason is that my generation has consciously or unconsciously (or perhaps a bit of both) tried to keep their generation feeling like children.

I don't think it was done maliciously. Like much of our generation, Ben and I always wanted to raise our children differently, better, than we were raised. Although my dad never made me feel as though he resented spending money on me, Ben had a different experience. As he was growing up, his father made it abundantly clear to him that as soon as Ben turned eighteen and became an adult in the eyes of the law, all of his father's support and obligations to him, legal and otherwise, came to an end. We never set a use-before date for the love and support we offer Tom and Julie. It is endless.

However, this loving attitude has a bonus, if you will, for my generation which I think must be acknowledged. As long as they stay children, we stay young. If we are forced to recognize this generation as adults, parents even, what does that make us? Well, grandparents, of course, and, let's face it, older rather than younger.

I have a feeling this new way of looking at things was invented by us bounteous baby boomers, but I could be wrong about that. This is certainly the first time I have ever been this age, and I suppose it's possible that each generation feels this way about the subsequent one. Some further research in this area may be required. I've been thinking about driving out to see my dad, anyway. Stay tuned for updates.

Note: I suspect this post assumes way more responsibility for the way our children think than we actually have. But, hey, it's my blog, and the opinions expressed herein are mine and this is where I express them. See?

a stray irritation

When Rufus and I take our daily walks, at one point we pass four or five locust trees planted in a row. As we walked along there yesterday morning, yellow locust leaves rained down all around us when a sudden gust of wind blew. The falling leaves were a golden shower in the morning light against the blue, blue autumn sky. As I thought that, I was instantly irritated that I can never use that phrase without a vulgar, sexual connotation being attached to it.

In fact, it irritates me every time I think about it.

at summer's end

It looks like yesterday may have been our last day of temperatures in the upper 80s. Our protracted summer is finally drawing to a close in the second week of October. I generally don't care for late summer - too hot, too humid, too many bugs - but this year I have enjoyed it. It has been strange, though, out walking Rufus in shorts and a sleeveless top while brown leaves fall all around us.

I know in the past (before we lived in a house with central air) I would have absolutely hated this weather. I always felt that once October had arrived, I could expect to sleep comfortably at night. For me, that means sleeping temperatures in the 60s and no humidity. I now have that luxury year-round, so it just doesn't matter as much to me what it's like outside.

The dogs have been enjoying the weather, and I like the fact that it is easy to get them to go outside and stay there for more than a minute. I love it when Lucie finally lets down her defenses, and stretches out on her side in the sunlit grass. She lies there like rumpled laundry, and looks like she doesn't have a bone in her body. Rufus, being a black dog, wisely rests in the shade.

I think, for the most part, the reason I am enjoying the seasons so much this year is because I am actually experiencing them instead of sitting in a windowless cubicle all day, every day. I relish this unexpected opportunity to heal and to think and to observe.

lack of progress report

So now I have a big blister on my right heel because my shoe has a worn spot, almost like a hole, on the inside part of the shoe where my heel rubs. Now, I would think that because there is a "hole" there, it would be more comfortable for my foot instead of less, but that doesn't seem to be the case. The blister hurt too much to wear the shoe last night, so I wasn't able to use the treadmill. I showed the shoe to Ben, and he said it can be repaired with that good old American fix-all, duct tape, so I may try to do that today.

I couldn't find any nice green grapes when I went to the grocery store yesterday, so the only fresh fruit I currently have in the house is apples. That doesn't seem like enough (any) variety to me. There wasn't enough low-fat granola left for me to have for breakfast this morning.

I made the mistake of weighing myself again after only three days on the treadmill, and instead of losing weight, I had gained .5 pounds. I tried on the next smaller size of my jeans, and they still don't fit me.

This is the type of minutiae I get bogged down in when I try to focus on my healthier lifestyle. But I will persevere. What choice do I have?

day 1

I have known all along that as much as I hate the thought of it, the day would come when I would have to get back on the treadmill in the basement. My twice-daily walks with Rufus will only take me so far on my journey back to a healthy lifestyle. Yesterday was that day.

I thought that after our morning walk would be a good time to check out whether the treadmill would even work or not. It has been almost two years since I used it on a regular basis, and when Julie tried to use it this summer, she reported it as non-operational and "smelling bad". So I wasn't real optimistic as I turned it on and climbed aboard. I only walked for three minutes, but it seemed okay. There was some "slippage", as I reported to Ben, and he said it might be because he had adjusted after Julie tried to use it last.

Ben and I made sure everything else was just the way I like it down there - the neon clocks synchronized, the little oscillating fan operational, and my Neil Young CD in the boombox. Next I had to find the clothes I prefer to work out in. That's not easy to do. My dresser is in perennial need of a good clean-out, and the clothes I don't wear for a while get buried under the layers of stuff that I do wear. At last - biking shorts and a sports bra and a light-weight, loose-fitting cotton t-shirt. Comfortable walking shoes and socks, and I was all set.

After our evening walk, I changed my clothes, grabbed my water bottle and headed for the basement. The first thing I always do before I get on the treadmill is weigh myself, and last night was no exception. I was not really that surprised at how much I currently weigh, but I had hoped it wouldn't be quite that bad. I am too embarrassed to say how much it is, but suffice it to say that I need to lose a minimum of thirty pounds to even get close to a healthy weight.

Neil Young started to sing, and I was off. I walked for a half hour, which is my normal walking time. The slippage was quite alarming, but tailed off the more I walked. I did notice a slight "burning smell" at about two minutes, but kept walking, and it didn't seem to get worse. The biggest problem was the noise. That treadmill is so noisy! I am hoping that once I start walking on a regular basis, it will run more smoothly (and quietly). I am sure it could do with a tune-up, but that's not something I can afford right now.

Neil and I sang, he wailed on his guitar, then it was time for me to do my cooling-down and stretching exercises. I hate this part way worse than the treadmill part, so I figure it must be good for me. Fifteen minutes of that, and I was done. I took big gulps of cold water as I powered everything down: clocks, fan, and boombox.

I turned to head back up the basement steps, and the last piece fell into place: Rufus was waiting for me at the top of the stairs, just like Bobo always did. That was one of the reasons I had to stop before. Bobo had just died, and he wasn't there anymore. When I saw my little black dog waiting for me last night, I knew this was going to work out all right.

Day 2 Update: Ben adjusted the belt so it doesn't slip anymore, and there was no "burning smell." He also made some critical adjustment that made it less noisy. Just about an optimum experience if I truly have to do this.