Yesterday I led Charity and Mrs. Sherlock on a walk to many of my favorite places in the neighborhood up behind where we live. I showed them the mystery house and the house with the tower and then we looped around, and Charity showed us where she lived when she first moved here. We ran into a young woman with a small dog, who lives there now.
She did not love the place as much, oh say 25 years later. She was a little intimidated by us. Later we were up in the expensive part and this gentleman about our age was standing out in his driveway and offered to walk with us but was waiting for his wife. We, said, we didn’t know, we were pretty lively… (we saw them later, the wife was much younger) and it is true.
Other than in the hiking groups, which I do enjoy, and are operating these days with strict protocols, we are not very serious when we walk. There were all these signs for a particular open house, we followed them joking and then when we got there I stayed out with Frieda and gave her a cookie and they investigated. The young realtor was clearly lonely and enjoyed their visit to the 2.4-million-dollar home with a spectacular view. Even though it was built in the 50’s it was too modern and cold for both their tastes.
I took them by the Castle House and the dahlia from above is from the French themed triangular garden down the street.
One of the things that is positive about Covid-19 is that in avoiding it forces us to stay close to home and enjoy the local delights instead of seeking the new. Charity lived on the same street as the mystery house up around the curve for almost 8 years and didn’t know it was there.
The new can be right here. Two of my favorite old Victorians a few blocks away were knocked down this last week. They were mostly used for student housing, but they had quirky touches that were endearing. Emotionally it is the same as when a tree comes down. A housing complex for older folks is going up. Wealthy older folks I might add. They were taking care, at least, to save the windows and fixtures.
Income disparity is alive and well in Portland. It has been baked into the design of the city since the first non-native settlers came here.
This afternoon I am going to see my doctor in person. Diego is going in for his ultrasound on Wednesday morning. The business consultancy thing starts today and of course I am teaching.
Kes and I are now in day five of our consistent cleaning blitz. Things are happening! I have accumulated cleaning supplies. Who knew there was such a thing as bleach gel? We are exchanging tips. Wood soap is my new friend. It is pretty amazing what you can get done in concentrated half hour a day. But after all this time being preoccupied with the awful job, the burst of energy getting out of there and the slog of lockdown, and a chronically sick cat there is work to be done.
This week I am teaching preparedness for sleep. Creating the conditions to make it happen naturally and easily. I have been learning a lot about brain waves or settling into things I already knew about them. It is fascinating stuff.
Mr. Finch had chronic long-term insomnia and I used to talk to him about things he could do to help but he was totally resistant to trying things. He thought it was hopeless and had adapted to it. I was talking to Charity about a friend of hers that is the same way.
There are things that can make sleep better, natural things, not supplements but breath work, visualization and (surprisingly) practicing genuine concern for others. Not worry, but empathy.
I wonder if insomnia is a feature of narcissistic personality disorder.
Anyway, with the world such an alarming mess it is good to know that the new flood gates in Venice worked and with a little focused relaxation we can all sleep a bit better so we will be better able to face the challenges ahead.
Even if it is a half hour a day.
Last updated October 05, 2020