Adventure 784: Day 7/Tucson/2023

Some of the left over California rain spilled all over Tucson today. With the wind, the rain ran shivers through our bodies. According to Judy's ten year journal, the cool temperatures are nothing new, but in the decade we've been coming here, this is just the second time we've seen this much rain. The last time we, along with many others, were trapped in Catalina State Park because the rushing water had washed out the only road. Today, we witnessed a rush of muddy water flowing in the Rillito River. It shocked us because normally the river bed is dry and pock marked with javelina footprints. It makes the warning signs that say, "Don't enter when water is present" all the more poignant. It also made me wonder what happened to the homeless camp I saw in the river bed on my bike ride yesterday. I hope they were warned in advance, or maybe had lived experience that prepared them for the sudden ferocity of the flooding water. In any case, it isn't the warm sunny Tucson we are used to, but the rain didn't stop us from living large. Judy went to her second "training" session. She's joined a gym and hired a trainer. Pretty soon those "Wiebe" arms of hers will be belts of steel. Meanwhile, I met with Jordan Misner, a skilled Tai Chi practitioner, who I've also hired to work with me these three months. After lunch, during which, Judy (The Wiley Cager) again drubbed me in cribbage. [Side note: I'm down $2.14 so far this month], we went on a drive to get our bearings a little bit. Now that we're "residents", we'll have to learn the lay of the land. Today's excursion was to find a place to park when we go to the Arizona/USC basketball game Thursday. Judy bought us tickets as a Christmas present. I'm very excited because Arizona has long been a hotbed for college basketball. They have loyal fans, a huge arena in the Mckale Center, and  a very strong motivation to play well. They've suffered two league losses in recent weeks, which stings any time, but here in Tucson, it's near sacrilege to lose to those teams in the Northwest. Time will tell, but much like Gonzaga's kennel, the Mckale Center is renown for its boisterous fans. The rain will begin to fizzle into a drizzle and the sun should return by Wednesday, although they say the cold front will last most of this week. No matter. Life is good, especially today.

This was Sabino Dam a couple of days ago. The news said this creek was impassable today, and the area was closed to visitors.

I didn't think I'd need a life jacket here in the desert.

At least we weren't driving in the pounding rain like we were a few years back down the Pacific Coast.

I think I remember taking this picture when we were in the laundromat drying our clothes. Mother Nature is quite the fickle lady, and surely not to be taken lightly.

Adventure 783: Day 6/Tucson/2023

When Judy and I married we compromised on church. I grew up on the right side of the spectrum as a Roman Catholic. Judy grew up at the other end as a Mennonite. We met in the middle and have been worshipping as Presbyterians ever since. This morning we attended the 8 A.M. service at Northminster Presbyterian. The atmosphere was friendly, upbeat, and inspirational. I enjoyed Andrew Ross, the pastor, who led the service with exuberance, humor, and substance. I think it will be our church home while we're here. Pastor Ross spoke today about living a life that strives for the kingdom of heaven rather than living life driven by our sensual desires. In one quip he prayed aloud, "Lord, help me be the person my dog thinks I am." It rattled some memories loose in my mind. The best dog I ever had was a pure bred German Shepherd I rescued as a pup. I named him Tim. He couldn't be sold at top dollar because he had a floppy ear. I worked with that dog every day. He went everywhere with me, and when I had to put him down some sixteen years later, it was tough. I remember how excited he became every time he saw me. He would twirl his eighty-five pound body round and round in tight circles like a tornado. Lord help you if he caught your leg on one of his spins. I loved that dog. I think he loved me. I completely understand Pastor Ross' sentiment. The dog's love was infinite, but his understanding of my imperfections was limited. Or maybe not. Maybe he just accepted me as I was. Anyway, I spent much of the service flashing through memories of moments I spent with Tim Dog. I left church hoping to live the life of a better man. The rest of our day we spent with our friends, the Kral's. David is a serious football fan, so we spent the afternoon watching games on this Wild Card Sunday. Very enjoyable. Another of the great joys life is enjoying time with good friends. It makes life good, especially today.

David muted the sound of the football game so we could listen to the tunes Judy and Ginny played.

We enjoyed a magnificent late lunch of chicken pot pie. The weather was misty in Tucson today, so this dish was supremely comfortable.

The Kral's are heading out for a cruise at the end of the week. Here David is confirming air line reservations.

Here, the Wiley Cager is posing much like Cleopatra.

Art shot of the day: I painted this picture in 1996. It now hangs in the Kral's guest bathroom.

Judy and Ginny also share an interest in knitting. They're considering their next projects.

Ginny, showing one of the shawls she made.

For our afternoon snack, we enjoyed smashed potatoes and sautéed chard with caramelized onions and apple.

 Selfie of the day: Quite satisfied after enjoying our second lunch.

Adventure 782: Day 5/Tucson/2023

Perception, or the ability to see, hear, and feel a thing through the senses, controls our view of life. Even a little change can make a difference. For example, take a copper spittoon. The very thought of slathering brown spittle dripping down the inside of the spittoon evinces disgust. It's only a little better if the copper is turned into a garbage can. There is no luster because even the shiniest garbage can is still a vehicle for refuse. But if that copper is turned into a fine piece of jewelry and placed around the neck or on the arm of some beautiful person, it's easy to see the worth of the copper. Better yet, turn the copper into all the pennies ever minted. It's easy to imagine great value. So what determines perception? Why is it that I see something one way, but another sees the same thing differently? Whose version is correct? Whose version has value? Whose version is just brown spittle, and whose is a glittering pendant slung around a beautiful neck? I think the answer to this paradox is that all views exist in time, and value is a construct we attach to help us cope. In ten days on her birthday, my first wife, Annie, had she lived, would have been 72. She is very much in my thoughts, and my memories are like burnished copper. When I remember the day she died, her lifeless eyes rolled back, heaving on our bed in mechanical staccato breaths, I perceive pain. I suffer the immediacy of that moment overwhelming me like a large wave swallowing a surfer near the shore. On the other hand, when I remember seeing her walking down the stairs in her senior prom dress, a lock of jet black hair gently caressing her forehead, I perceive a tingle I can only call love. So many opposing perceptions fill my mind, I often ask, "What should I feel?" Should I try to suppress the pain? Should I try and elevate the joys? The flat fact is that I'm unable to control either. In reality, both perceptions require acceptance. Simply put, I mustn't grasp for past joys, or recoil from past pain. Rather, I must accept each as it comes. If and when I do that, life becomes good, especially today.

Liberating the mind means accepting whatever comes.

That existence is joy is also true.

One of the signs on my classroom wall read: Pay attention. Everything matters.

 

Life must be treated with equanimity because the whole thing could blow up at any moment. 

Art shot of the day: Lady in suppose.

Selfie of the day: The joy of connection. That's me on the right-the luckiest guy on the planet.
  

Adventure 781: Day 4/Tucson, 2023

The first joy I experience every day is the comfort, safety, and love of snuggling with my Bunny. It happens just about 4 A.M. I roll over, snake my left arm under the silk of Judy's pillow, spoon myself into her, wedge my right leg between hers, and flop my right arm around her waist. Usually I give her boob a little squeeze, and we exist there for a while. It feels good. Most times we sleep for fifteen minutes or so. Then I switch to my back, and Judy nestles her head in to crook of my neck. We lay that way motionless, infinitely comfortable. We doze another few minutes, and then I realize she's gone. Usually, it's close to 5 A.M.  After she leaves I spread myself to my full extent basking in the gift of personal space. Just before seven, I rise to the joyful bliss of the hot tub. Judy usually joins me. It is there we talk about the day, and after she leaves, I reflect. This morning, we planned our hike while enjoying the moon disappearing into the morning light.. After the hot tub, it was back for breakfast and our daily crib game, which by definition can't be joyful for both of us. One of us has to lose. Today, I'm the joyful winner of $.31 cents lessening my debt to the Cager who is still ahead by a buck thirty. No one knows who the fates will favor tomorrow? We'll see. Around ten, we drove to Sabino Canyon for a two hour romp through the cacti. Beyond joy. Pure bliss. Warm air, old beings, huge, unforgiving, majestic peaks. I really enjoy walking in the desert, more so than hiking in the woods. I think it's because of the sky. To me the sky is full of possibilities where I, as the mere human, am free to perceive that life is good, especially today.

My morning devotions and reflections have occurred in the hot tub just before dawn for almost 35 years now. One drop at a time.

Selfie of the day: Morning hot tub.

I've been to Sabino Canyon a half dozen times now. I've walked bit of the bottom, but If a person wants to really experience the canyon, he/she/them must go up to where it's blue.

This little buck seemed unconcerned.

Quite a lot of water has flowed over Lower Sabino Dam. Maybe it's a metaphor?

Art shot of the day: Diversity, good.

In the morning, I've adopted this joyful space for practicing the 'form'. Right now my feet are propped up. I'm breathing, thinking, typing, looking, and just enjoying.
 

Adventure 780: Day 3/Tucson/2023

Yesterday, I ended the blog with the suggestion that I'm not one to judge. Not true. In the interest of full disclosure, I judge every chicken that crosses a road, regardless of its motives. I would submit that most humans do. In my defense, I save the harshest judgments for myself, which again (except for narcissists) is the case, I suppose, for most people. I'm trying to change that. When I retired, I remember saying, "When I pull my hand out of the bucket, I'll just be out of the bucket". I made that statement as a pejorative about the effectiveness of my career, concentrating on the emptiness I felt after thirty-one years rather than accepting that while I might have caused some students some angst, I also inspired a few. That's the thing about acceptance and the bucket. It's tricky. I've often found myself standing beside some bucket gauzily dreaming about how nice it would be to see the bucket filled to over flowing. Other times I looked at the bucket with despair thinking how very far from full it was. And of course, I'm always aware of other people's buckets. It's hard to avoid comparison. If I could contain the need for judgment, I'd realize that all I need to do is keep putting drops into the bucket, and before I'd know it, the bucket would be full. That's the answer: drop by drop. And really, that's what I tried to do in my teaching career. It's what I try to do in all my endeavors.  Every day I put my best drop into the bucket. Not every drop lands in the bucket, but I give it my best effort every day. The trick is to enjoy each drop for the complete effort it is, regardless of where it lands. I shouldn't worry about yesterday's drop. I shouldn't worry about tomorrow's drop. I should  enjoy today's drop, and simply realize that life is good, especially today.

I might as well jump for joy.

P.S. I dropped another thirty cents to the Cager today. It's very hard to be joyful through gritted teeth.

Adventure 779: Day 2/Tucson/ 2023

A Tibetan text puts it like this: "Beneath the pauper's house there are inexhaustible treasures, but the pauper never realizes this, and the treasures never say, 'I am here'. So what treasures did I discover today? First, though I may sometimes suffer a pauper's spirit, God's grace has blessed me in ways I certainly don't deserve, and most certainly can't take credit for, so I welcomed the heat of the hot tub water this morning  as I watched the rosy fingers of dawn awaken the day. Then I enjoyed a morning tradition with my Bunny at breakfast, trying my magnanimous best not to be chagrined by another loss at cribbage. Sadly, (for me), the Wiley Cager has been on a hot streak that's lasted over a month. We play daily for the exorbitant price of a penny a point, nickel a game. We pay off monthly with a trip to the local bakery for a scone or some other sweet treat. The monthly loser has to pull out the credit card to pay. Last month, I suffered a tremendously humiliating defeat to the tune of $4.65. Worse yet, the trend continues. I'm currently down $1.41 with twenty-one days to play. I've even contemplated returning to my cheating ways just to secure a win since I feel as hungry as the Dickens character who asked, "May I have more?" Instead, I revel in the joy of life with the "Cager", which speaks to the idea of treasures found. I can't think of a better way to start every morning than a  friendly encounter with my Bunny. After breakfast, I enjoyed my first bicycle ride in Tucson today-another treasure I've spent a lifetime pursuing. Since I've not been on my bike for several months, I rode just an hour along the canal. Every little pain from my neck to my hamstring made me realize I'm glad to be alive. It's easy to find fault in this world, but like the poet Rumi asks, "How long will we fill our pockets like children with dirt and stones?" Instead, I choose to let the world go, and revel in the good fortune I'm enjoying now. I truly believe that life is good, especially today.

Who am I to judge?

Adventure 778: Day 1/Tucson/2023

Miss Fortune shined on us once again this morning. We got into our house in the morning rather than the usual 3 P.M. We were excited. Judy went with Ginny to Trader Joe's for supplies while I unloaded the car. As we unpacked, we chittered around like mice after cheese looking into cupboards, drawers, closets, corners, and what all. We concluded the "digs" will do. In fact, the place makes us realize that life is good, especially today.

Our hostess is a Yoga instructor who has taught all over the world. The house is filled with meditative art. Quite pleasant and peaceful.

The kitchen works.

The front is really just an entrance for guests.

My favorite feature so far is the back patio.

This little cutie welcomes anyone who comes to the front door.

The living room is 20 x16, which coincidentally is the same size as our front room at our new condo.

Art dioramas are sprinkled throughout the property.

Selfie of the day: Come on down!

We even have two Saguaros in the front yard.

The bedrooms are suitable as well.

First sunset of 2023. More to come.