Poor me. That’s what happens when you have a hip replaced during the height of vacation season. I’m chafing at the bit, but that’s my only complaint. I can do jumping jacks and climb the hills around town, and as soon as my scar is totally healed so you can drive a Mack truck over it, the doc says I can go into the water. And he’s some doc. That’s all I can’t do!
So I sit on my deck, when I’m not trudging to town for the mail, and admire the fir trees and the flowers—and Puget Sound and Mt. Baker. After a year my orchid plant bloomed and you’d think it was the Hope diamond. It was my first success ever, so don’t laugh.
Maybe I’ll take up horticulture. After seeing the botanical gardens of Sydney, Australia, and the national Kandawgyi orchid greenhouses in the Hill Station, Pin Oo Lwin, in Myanmar (2007), I’ve had a new appreciation of these exotic plants. Son Tom is an expert in the care and breeding and feeding of orchids, but only now that I’ve been on the sidelines have I been able to take the time to appreciate their beauty. It’s never too late….
This has also been a summer of wonderful theater: Oscar Wilde’s inimitable old chestnut, The Importance of Being Ernest, and two favorite Shakespeare plays, Taming of the Shrew and Richard III. All done in an open air settling reminiscent of the Central Park venue. Add to that concerts by the Whidbey Island Music Festival, specializing in early music played on authentic period instruments by artists from far and wide, and you know that I haven’t been languishing…swimming or no swimming!
I continue to struggle with the mysteries of computers and the intricacies of editing videos and photos…something that an eight-year-old would find amusing. I have, however, a computer guru, Steve Trembley, who not only understands technology, but can also play a mean guitar if his clients are driven to distraction. A superb musician with a technological bent…how lucky can I get?
So, for those of you who are familiar with the New Yorker cartoon that symbolizes my computer angst, or should I say rage, you’ll be glad to know that I’m growing out of it. Still, I keep it on my refrigerator to keep me humble.
Now, on to my birthday party, which I promised to share with you so long ago. I needn’t relate my age, for it’s all over the cake. I recall as a child that I couldn’t even count that high, but I was never good at math. More the artistic type who believed that age was simply a number that kept getting higher every year. Nice attitude, which grows more appealing all the time. I remember when I hit 40 and started counting backwards when my children asked my age. They, like me, were also not good at math.
Here are some photos taken by Wendy Ashford and Lee Compton, set up as a slide show, now that I’ve figured out how to make one. That only took me about a year! A second slide show has photos taken by son Robert during my birthday week. It was a great time, having my whole family join me on the island. We’re planning on making this a yearly affair. Unfortunately, I didn’t go on the zip line at the party this year, for my overbearing children were sure I’d shatter my hip before the doc could cut off my femur properly and install the new hardware. Isn’t it funny how roles change?
Ebey’s Landing, here we come! One of many such glorious walks on this island.
As I’ve told you before, Whidbey abounds in art shows, poetry readings, musical events, and workshops of all kinds. It also has a very vital Buddhist sangha that has been having a celebration this past week. On the last day there is a festival and banquet called a tsok, or feast offering. I thought you all would enjoy seeing me being blessed by His Holiness Dodrupchen Rinpoche, considered by many to be enlightened at the same level as His Holiness the Dalai Lama. It’s my proof to my children that, in fact, I CAN behave!