An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

Fall is coming and with it brings anticipation of the stunning beauty nature offers up as the temperatures cool.  There is a snappy breeze, the best kind. The one that feathers the face with a chill but doesn’t dare to go even 1/8 of an inch deeper.  Scatterings of needles are floating down as I toil in the back of beyond. The scents take me back to the childhood summers spent just outside of Yosemite. The Douglas fir and cedars are my playmates today, not the cousins that populated the school breaks of childhood, but now, only seeing an occasional picture of on social media. They were playmates of convenience for our families. Definitely not kindred spirits.  It saddens me when my nose becomes acclimated and no longer notices the beautiful scents in the back of beyond. It so human to acquire or witness something wonderful only to start looking for beauty elsewhere when the first one becomes everyday. That hasn’t started for us yet in our new home, our new city. We love i...

I’m reluctant to get out of bed. The chill air outside the protection of the blankets is keeping me in place for the moment. Finally, I race from the warmth to the pile of clothing I prepped the night before. Lined leggings under the roomy boyfriend jeans go first, the skin tight t shirt then the blousy longer cotton t, a cable knit sweater and scarf.  I’ll bring my parka just in case.  I’m crossing the river that is spotted with dense fog but through the fog are the glorious reds, yellows and vivid oranges waving to me. I have always loved fall colors but never actually lived them except for a few trees sparsely scattered in the desert I called home. Here, at times, they threaten to cover me with the towering trees on both sides of the road, one must struggle to catch a glimpse of the grey blue sky above.  I reach a spot on the bridge where I catch my breath. The bright morning sun is cresting the mountains east of here and sharing its golden brilliance with the most bea...

The weather is finally turning a bit. Last week’s blasts of furnace like heat has been replaced with perfect sunny days that are complimented by occasional cool breezes. Waking this morning brought the surprise of a little chill (meaning somewhere in the mid-50's) and the need for my furry slippers that were buried deep within my closet.  Waking with the weather on the cool side makes for perfect running conditions, yet today I opted for warm snuggles with my man. Unfortunately, the cooler weather also brings our farty , snorty , snoring dog that creeps up and hides, tucked somewhere within the folds of the Boy Scout's warm sleeping body. He pretends he doesn't notice but I know he's full of it.  Fur and smelly dog slobber does not intimidate the Boy Scout in the least but I am utterly adverse to it, especially on the pillows where I lay my head or the blankets I tuck under my nose. Yesterday afternoon we played golf with a new friend and I realized that t...

Signs of fall fill the air even in sunny California. The mornings are darker and have a bit of a chill to them. The bedroom window remains open but maybe not quite as open as before. The children of Ventura are back to their routines and the soccer fields are full. Our late afternoon golf is being pressed into ever tightening spans and I am looking forward to the twilight rates starting a little earlier in the day.  We play a lot up in a tiny town called Ojai. It has its appeal. The Ojai stereotype wears Birkenstocks and drives a Volvo. It's considered a bastion for liberals with strong connections to Hollywood. A good proximity to studios, theaters and clubs but out of the way from the hustle and bustle and starstruck fans. There are two courses up there; the Ojai Valley Inn, which is beautiful and expensive, and our little course called Soule Park. I love it up there, nestled in the mountains with oak trees and pines vying for their space in the sun.  The Boy Scout...

The first sign that the holidays are going to be harder than I thought came today. My sweet girl ruefully asked if we could get the fall boxes out of the attic. Already having missed Halloween, I agreed. Digging those boxes out had never my job, my "secret keeper" routinely did this task without even being asked. Except for the last few years, he always seemed to love the holidays more than me. Venturing into his garage, awkwardly pulling out his very tall ladder, I made my way up. Boxes arranged yearly by him, I had scarcely an idea where to look. Moving a few boxes here and there, noticing that each one bares his horrible penmanship, I lost heart and a deep ache started somewhere in my stomach and it grew, squeezing my breath. Truthfully, I feel so selfish. I want things to feel as normal as possible. Nothing is normal, dreams are gone, promises are broken and I'm a bit consumed with my loneliness. I miss the feeling of someone lovingly touching skin. I miss sharin...