A Bug Runs Through It – Summer of 1972 (Memories of Moving and Adaption)

It’s been nearly a year since I’ve published a blog. We started planning our next move in January, which consumed most of the year. It distracted me from blogging, but not writing about some of my moving memories. I started a journal for Memories of Moving and Adaption. This was my first entry:

Summer of 1972: I’ve moved a lot in my life, often to warm places with weird bugs. My brother and I were born in Japan, but had no memory of it. Five moves later, when he was 10 and I was 12, we moved back. My parents enjoyed their first assignment there and we looked forward to a shared adventure. Initially, we lived in temporary housing – a “quonset hut” with AC, but not impervious to insect invasions. At night, lying in the twin beds of our shared room, we could hear skittering coming from the kitchen. Mom told us large roaches were living behind the stove and to “stay in bed.” My brother was not afraid. One night he tip toed out and turned on the lights to see them vaulting themselves into the corners of the kitchen. They also had the decency, or fear, to get out of our Mother’s way as she made morning coffee.

That was the first time I remember considering the sentiency of insects. Those roaches wanted to be around us, because we had good crumbs, but they didn’t want to be too close. One morning I snuck into the kitchen to see what I could see. In the morning light, I could see their shiny backs scouting around – until they saw me. Fear and self preservation kicked in. They were intelligent. To this day, I do not step on roaches. I respect them, and insects in general. They reward me by showing up in my memories.

I haven’t found many roaches in our new house, probably because it had been empty for a while. More on the move later. How do you react when you see a roach, or any insect unexpectedly?

64 No More

Fun on the 101

To celebrate enrolling in Medicare and to do something we hadn’t done yet, my husband and I drove the Olympic Loop (Highway 101 around Olympic National Park) in Washington State. It’s about a 9 hour drive, if you don’t stop anywhere, but there are lots of places to stop. We thought we’d make a spontaneous three day, two-nighter trip this past summer.

We didn’t expect the profound popularity of this idea with people who had planned further ahead. Being excellent planners and retired were not “success factors” for this trip. Instead, the single vacancy at the Kalaloch Lodge on the Pacific Coast dictated our itinerary. It turned out to be a great one.

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Permission to Paint

Artist London Wilde

Artistry comes in many forms; music, interior design, custom wedding cakes, signature cocktails and fantastic paintings. Asian influenced mixed media artist London Wilde excels in all of these. Born creative, London was raised in California’s Santa Cruz Mountains. She had a long career in the Tech Industry plus several years in the music industry as a vocalist and producer. Now retired from these demanding professions, London has finally given herself permission to paint full time.

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Help Me Pack

It’s been over a year since we had a big trip. Instead of traveling abroad, we’ve been focusing on health, hobbies and home. I’ve also been taking writing workshops (but not blogging), art classes (without producing anything independently), and doing too much volunteer work. I will write about these things one day, but first I need some help.

The cat is of no help.
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Precarious

A single Mother, standing on a driftwood log in heels, on the beach.

Precarious in black and white.

Perhaps wearing a dark suit made her feel more sophisticated and accomplished than she felt inside.

In color, a portrait of light brown hair and big blue eyes. She looked just like my Great Aunt and my Mother.

I have just two photographs and a ring. No one ever talked about her.

She had a child out of wedlock, married three times, then committed suicide in her early 40’s.

I never met my Grandmother and I have so many questions.

I have spent the past several months taking writing workshops, mainly about memoir. I even started a separate WP page to archive more serious writing, then deleted it. I don’t know what I’m doing, but wanted to share the results of one of the writing prompts from a class with Meg Wolitzer. This is it.

Not Looking For, But Found … in Japan

When I first met my husband what I was not looking for, but found, was someone who shared my love of Japan. His best friend lived there and he’d been visiting Japan for decades. I had lived in Japan twice as a military dependent, and also visited many times. We both had a strong connection with Japan.

Due to pandemic restrictions and our lack of business or family status, Japan had been off limits for us until reopening in October, 2022. We happily planned a two week trip that would put us there in cherry blossom season. We knew it would be crazy with tourists and we found more than we’d ever seen before. Even though the mask mandate had been lifted, most Japanese citizens continued to wear them in public places. We found a high correlation between “maskless-ness” and obvious tourists. It made sense, but it was unexpected. We discovered several other things we weren’t expecting as we wandered the cities of Yokohama, Osaka and Nagasaki.

Quiet moments while sight seeing, in spite of nearby crowds: a monk praying at the monument in Hypocenter Park, Nagasaki; school children waiting for instructions from their teacher in Yokohama; and a business man admiring a plum free in full bloom in Kaiko Hiroba Park(Yokohama.)

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What’s Your Type?

Old typewriters have been slipping into my photo essays for years. They never had anything to do with what I was writing about, yet there they were…..like random dreams of old boyfriends my father didn’t like; too old for me or that wouldn’t fit well with my long term plans. Both getting my attention at the time, for whatever reason, whether they were my “type” or not. Here are a few oldies from The Print Museum in Houston, Texas, the New Dungeness Lighthouse in Sequim, Washington, and an old hotel in Birmingham, Alabama. Something about their old, steampunk style was “striking.”

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Hiking For Chocolate – A Visit to Kauai Botanical Gardens

Have I pulled you in? There’s more! Fresh air and exercise, beautiful grounds, flowers and fruit, family history and enthusiastic guides. We love Kauai’s North Shore and each time we go, we try to find at least one thing we haven’t done before. This time it was touring a botanical garden.

Hiking the Property

Kauai Botanical Gardens is nestled within a neighborhood of Princeville. The warnings on the website are cautionary, but with good reason. There are inclines, natural trails and bridges that get slippery when it rains. Fortunately, the weather was perfect. Sunny, not too hot, and no mosquitos…..yet. On a good day, unless you have mobility challenges, I would consider this an easy hike. For the physically fit, it’s more of a stroll. The gardens are on private property, developed by the Robertson family as a hobby over 20 years ago, and later expanded into public tours (see preceding link.) The owners and guides are prepared for the unprepared visitor, offering safety tips, walking sticks, umbrellas, bug repellent, restrooms and cool water. Billed as a three hour tour, there are plenty of opportunities to pause and rest in this beautiful setting. We ended up not needing the walking sticks, but I still posed for this shot. Along side of me is one of several red sealing wax palms along the way.

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Dry Humping – A Book Review

I’ve been trying to generate some energy for writing, so I’ve been reading more and writing a few reviews. Here’s one I thought I’d share, not just for the unapologetic double entendre of it’s title, but its cover art and overall positivity:

DRY HUMPING A Guide to Dating, Relating, and Hooking Up Without the Booze

“If you don’t think this title applies to you, read it anyway. Judge it by its cover; bright, humorous, and contemporary. You won’t be disappointed.

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