November 9, 2020
In Washington Park
With a long string of dreary days ahead, we’re settling in for a lot of quality indoor time. For Rocky, this includes working up a sweat over the handlebars of the Straggler, staring at a wall and listening to music. We hauled the trainer out of storage and I quickly reassembled it for her last night. I tell her it will take 5-10 minutes, but 45 minutes later she’s gone off to bed and I’m still wrapping up. It’s only the second time I’ve put it together (the first was last spring in John Day, soon after that unfortunate dog incident), and it was no easier this time than the last. It didn’t help that our exact model has been discontinued and there are no online assembly instructions or video that I could find; and of course my memory of how I assembled this jigsaw puzzle last time was of little help.
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There’s no need for the trainer today though, because we’ve got a break in the weather - probably one of the last days that we can get out and appreciate the spectacular autumn colors before the next big wind and rain storm strips the leaves away.
We could hop on the bikes, but it’s chilly enough that we both decide to take walks instead. We go separately so that Rachael can get in a real workout and not be held up by me poking along with my bad knees and the camera. You might remember that I slipped on the stair to our bathroom two or three weeks ago; and although I didn’t fall, the impact when my feet thudded against the floor was forceful enough that I was sure I’d pay a price for it. Three weeks later, I’m still waiting for my knees to work their way back to their baseline state, which was none too good in the first place.
Poor me. I should quit whining and just be happy to get out. I read an article a few days ago about how dogs age, and the similarity to the aging arc that humans experience. Since then I’ve taken to picturing myself as a grey-muzzled black lab, limping along but still eager to get out for a walk through the neighborhood.
On a more upbeat note, I had my appointment with a dermatologist last week. The lesion I’d been worried about magically improved greatly once I started leaving it alone, and I felt a bit silly going in for an exam when the time came. I’m happy to report that after a full body exam that left few square inches of surface area unexamined, I came away with a clean bill of health and the recommendation that I wear more sunscreen and quit picking at my wounds.
So, enough about me. Let’s take a walk up through Washington Park and the arboretum for another look at one of the most spectacular autumns I remember seeing in Portland.
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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnolia_tripetala
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If these leaves had been in my backyard when I was 7 or so, I probably would have thought if I held one in each hand and flapped them fast enough I could fly. I tried this with small branches of smaller-leaf trees, jumping off the brick trash burner. It never worked, but was sure fun trying.
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https://www.heraldnet.com/life/plant-of-merit-clerodendrum-trichotomum-harlequin-glorybower/#:~:text=This%20plant%20has%20some%20very,lasting%20and%20fragrant%20white%20flowers.
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https://www.stuff.co.nz/life-style/well-good/123235373/the-pain-question-why-does-it-hurt-to-get-older-why-does-it-hurt-at-all
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And I'll bet your mind was so enthralled with the colors at Washington Park that it forgot about your achy knees for a bit!
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