Category: Tales from Beaver Creek

It rained today, which is odd that I even have to state that, given that I live in a bioregion that ordinarily would be rained upon for days and days before now. This year is different. The sun bloomed daily for months with brief pockets of rain, instead of the reverse. Sunlight is normally so rare that there’s a name for the moments that it appears: sunbreaks. As I write this, the sun is even now pushing aside the clouds like a bully shoving the more peaceful clouds out of the way. I think this will end badly as is the case with all bullies. Clouds only appear momentarily peaceful and fluffy, building up gargantuan towers of chemical reactions that eventually come down on our heads, blocking the now thin and watery sun for months. At least, that’s their reputation. I am one month and a few days into retirement. The experience is primarily of detoxification including house cleaning and anxiety dreams, such as the one I had last night. I was at the University of Oregon at some futuristic date. A young student was escorting me to the student union in her car and we drove through a very sunny campus that bore no resemblance to what I remembered. I kept asking, is this still the university, as she drove through block after block of ultra modern buildings rising on all sides. She was driving very fast in a smart car that seemed to run on rails and then it didn’t. She walked up to a group of other young students and I was on my own, outside a monumental windowed building, standing by a bus stop. I realized that I had a qigong class I was supposed to teach at 4pm and now it was 6 – I was horrified. I ran to catch the bus but it left without me. Now the building was dark, the sun had set – apparently the campus had closed down for the night and I had no way to get back home, other than waking up. I am roasting an 11 lb. turkey and making some sort of cranberry sauce for Thanksgiving.  I couldn’t find the listed ingredients for the sauce so I’m improvising: whole cranberries, pomegranate seeds, candied pineapple, pine nuts, pumpkin seeds, ginger, lemon juice.  It’s supposed to have pistachio nuts but I couldn’t find the shelled ones.    

I am 34 work days away from retirement, my last day of working with Lincoln County Health & Human Services being October 12th. Over the last 6 months (since I last posted anything here), I have been figuring out how to finalize two major escapades in my life: full time work and my first completed CD. It is very typical of my life that both are happening at the same time, both took years to arrive at, and both are doorways to another existence. I have worked either one full time job or multiple part-time jobs since I was 14 or 15. Those jobs were for the most part disconnected from music or writing, although imagination and being able to think creatively about very routine problems helped. I’ve always felt like a fraud, cowardly because I didn’t quit working to be an artist of some kind. I fell back on having an income, health insurance, a working car, cell phone, computer, a relatively normal life. I supported my grandson through high school and a bit beyond, so having an income was useful. I have to shrink my level of consumption though, and confront my assumption that I have enough money for whatever. That is a good thing – I’ve never been very good with money, tend to spend it too quickly, so now I have to be conscious about what I spend, how much and for what. I’ll have to live within my means for the first time in 20 some odd years. There’s something very comforting about that, since having more than enough money didn’t really mean anything to me, I can detach from those ties that bind and focus on other things, such as melody, rhythm, songwriting – none of those are dependent on having a credit card.

2/3/18 I’m definitely in a fierce battle with WordPress, trying to figure out how to set up a website by making as many mistakes as possible, although I am no doubt sharpening my beginner’s mind in the process.  In fact, my mind is so honed by the start of this now 8 hour combat that I can feel the top of my head expanding like a rather slow volcano to accommodate all the sharpening.  My cat has even nervously left the room.  I glowered and cursed through a few videos, appalled at the apparent high percentage of individuals who have no idea how to speak to a 66 year old about technology.  I should just close up my laptop and go to bed, since it’s past midnight. 2-4-18 And now it’s a lovely misty Sunday, full of waffles, almond butter, and reservations for a park and fly from Portland to Boston. My frustration level has withered overnight and I’m hoping I’m not about to re-engage those wheels that go nowhere. A walk in the woods will help, I have my snow boots on which function really as mud boots here in the soggy coastal rain forest. And there’s always other chores to do, some of which I may even be motivated to take care of. To be continued… (2 hours later)  The walk was perfect.  I’m all better, even figured out how to post photos on the Gallery page.