One-Sentence Journal, Weeks Ninety and Ninety-One

I’ve been writing these consistently, pencil on paper (I think I’ve only missed two weeks this year), but I’ve fallen behind in posting them. I’ll see if I can get caught up here, two weeks at a time.

  1. 04/09/2017:  An upside to occasionally reviewing books for hire is that I may lounge around on a Sunday morning drinking coffee and still feel like I’m working.
  2. 04/10/2017:  United screws the pooch again when it comes to handling a traveler, and it amuses me how people say they should have paid someone to take a different flight, as if, given the circumstances, money is the only way to motivate someone to stand in for a fellow clearly distraught.
  3. 04/11/2017:  Parked at the river with a book, I was surprised at the high level of anxiety I felt for every person — among many on a sunny, if chilly, evening — who passed with their off-leash dog running amok … illegally of course, a circumstance I’m usually not overly concerned with.
  4. 04/12/2017:  5:20 AM, nearly 50° outside, with a near full moon glowing through tears in a thick bank of clouds hanging over the mountains.
  5. 04/13/2017:  Bookstore event with John Gierach, a fantastic writer, that led to drinks afterward with a small group of friends, mostly new, in the legendary Missoula bar, Charlie B’s.
  6. 04/14/2017:  Add Butte, America to the list of places I’d love to time travel to to witness it really jumping during its heyday.
  7. 04/15/2017:  Sunshine, wind, randy birds, odd cloud formations, and grauple were all elements of a chilly and lovely Saturday that ended all too soon.
  8. 04/23/2017:  Bottles, cans, and copious cigarette butts at the river signify the return of the ignorant philistine to  my revered sauntering grounds.
  9. 04/24/2017:  My age and gender often trick people into assuming I own the bookstore, especially when I am there alone … but I’ve been accused of far worse.
  10. 04/25/2017:  The old cat grumbles and wheezes her way through a couple minutes at the kibble bowl in the hallway behind me, then shuffles back to her cushion, dragging my heart in her wake.
  11. 04/26/2017:  Like a weekend extended with a long distance lover, the lingering spring days of clouds, rain, and occasional flashes of sunlight prolong the uplift of my spirit.
  12. 04/27/2017:  On the bright side, I saw this year’s pair of great horned owlets for the first time tonight.
  13. 04/28/2017:  A three-hour nap in the afternoon was a feat of accomplishment unprecedented in recent memory.
  14. 04/29/2017:  I am an unabashed lover of the cold of winter, but I also enjoy these first warm days of spring that end with the glow of having spent an afternoon outdoors, soaking up the rays of the sun.

On Challenges

My sweaty triangle, as of May 12th, when the instructor asked if she could photograph me after class so I could see how my form has improved….

Folks who have been around here very long know I started practicing Bikram Yoga a couple years ago. That practice is still stuttering along, though lately it’s been going stronger than ever. I felt I was slipping earlier this spring, falling back to only a class or two a week, so I decided that, in order to kick my ass back into line, I’d try, again, to commit to a practice-every-day, 30-day challenge. I’d made the attempt in the past, but never managed to go thirty days in a row. This time I pulled it off; from April 27th to May 26th, I muscled through a class in the hot room — mostly 60-minute classes, a few 90-minuters, and even two or three hot Pilates classes — every day. It was exhausting; not so much the classes themselves, but I fell behind on getting enough sleep, so my ass was dragging by the end. It was worth every sweaty minute. It was also nice to sleep in a little that Saturday the 27th. I didn’t get up until almost 8:00 AM!

I was out of town for a few days after it wrapped up, but now I’m back at it. The new challenge on the yoga front is something that happens every summer in the studio where I practice. Everyone who wants to participate signs up and must attend at least three classes per week (we get one throwaway week). At the end — the first of October — anybody left standing gets entered into a drawing for a free year of yoga. So I signed up; in the first week I went four times. So far, so good.

I also agreed to do a food challenge with my mom. She’s doing a paleo thing, I’m doing Whole30. That started on June 3rd, so we’re a little over a week in. I’ve tried this sort of thing in the past as well, but so far it’s going better than it typically has. I’m eating quite a bit of bison, potatoes, lots of spinach, peppers, tuna, cashews, a little chicken, asparagus, broccoli, carrots, etc. Hell, I even ate eggs and avocados this morning, unprecedented in my history. And no soda so far! At least once a day I’m taking a picture of a meal — usually dinner — and sending it to my mom. I think the accountability helps. It’s even kind of fun.

Why am I doing all this? Just to clean up my act, people. Everything I love to do most requires a certain level of health and fitness. I need to regain some ground, and I’m not getting any younger.

Friday Reads: The “It’s What Goats Do” Edition

From the “Fabrication and Impermanence” chapter of What Makes You Not a Buddhist by Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse:

Consider cooking a hen’s egg. Without constant change, the cooking of an egg cannot occur. The cooked-egg result requires some fundamental causes and conditions. Obviously you need an egg, a pot of water, and some sort of heating element. And then there are some not-so-essential causes and conditions, such as a kitchen, lights, an egg timer, a hand to put the egg into the pot. Another important condition is absence of interruption, such as a power outage or a goat walking in and overturning the pot.

I love that last line. Freakin’ goats….

Answering the Age-Old Travel Question

Having spent a couple nights aboard, could I live here?

“The Meadowlark”

Yes. Yes, I could.

Highlights included the outdoor shower (particularly in the rain), all the mist of the Olympic Peninsula, and the visiting barred owl.


She’s a 1938 ‘classic’ and curvaceous 40′ wooden cruiser. Charming bathroom, kitchen and sleeping quarters. Experience the ultimate in comfortable cruising. She sits high and dry in her own meadow surrounded by dark green forest. Bon voyage.

Rich warm solid mahogany. Relive the yachting world of the 40’s in this spacious wooden bridge deck cruiser of Lake Union heritage, designed in the spirit of famous Seattle marine architect, Ed Monk. Enjoy cocktails on the dock overlooking your own private meadow. Quiet and secluded, for a good nights sleep.

She is a classic ‘antique’ boat, not actually built for optimum overnight accommodations. She has such features as areas of low head room, several steps up and down to various levels, and an attendant salty boat ambiance. Boat people and adventurers love her, but she may not be appropriate for everyone.