Mosaic Monday #70: Follow your Yellow Brick Road

Coffee and Cinnamon Bun

At the house of Dear Neighbor Friend

It was a struggle to compose this post, and even as I type these words, I am not sure the post will ever see the light of day.  The melee began when I decided to write about the third anniversary of my retirement, March 3.  In typical Angie fashion, I reviewed past posts on this topic (Week One, Week Three, Week Five, Week Twelve, Week Nineteen, Week Forty-One, Week Fifty-Two, Week One Hundred and Five). Part search for inspiration, and partly sprung from a desire to avoid repetition.

Visions of a Pulitzer Prize, or a National Geographic Photography Award, danced in my head as I scanned those posts.  From the distance of 24 months, I especially admired the post Bountifully Blessed from Week 52.  Insightful and spot on, and complete with resolutions for the rest of retirement.  And herein lies the rub.  Looking in the mirror, I know that I did not follow through on my good intentions as written in that post.  I have not succeeded in letting go of perfection and structure, and, despite my desire to enjoy more time crafting, these activities continue to get deferred because I have jumped head-first into volunteering, working and many other activities, which I give priority.  

Hand-drawn Valentine's Day card for Spousal Unit - I would like to have
more time to draw!

At this point, you are probably ready to click off this post to something more fun. You're probably thinking "Angie needs to get out of her own head," and you would probably be right.  Heck, several times my fingers have hovered over the "DELETE" key; wouldn't it be easier to write a typical light-hearted summary of February, and pitch it as "a month in the life of the retired Angie"?

Valentine's card and candy from Spousal Unit

But once I get an idea in my head, it's hard to get it out without some cathartic moment, some resolution.  How can I let myself off the hook without some introspection? So if you want to find some relief with Adorable Baby Animal pictures, I will understand.  The rest of you can stick with me and find out if the post makes it past a draft!!!

OK.  (You're still here?  GREAT!)  I think my fundamental challenge is the number of hours in the day.  Does anyone know how to double them?   Nope?  Sigh.  OK.  So the only solution is to decide what has to give.  Activities with Spousal Unit?  Blogging?  Cleaning the house? Community involvement? Time with Dear Neighbor Friend? Showering?  Working on the mountain?

And with Spring, new priorities will be added onto the list.  Gardening.  Travel.  Drinking wine on the deck.  What's a woman to do?

Cactus at the coffee shop

Earlier this week, in the midst of my brain-swirl, I posed this question to Spousal Unit: "Is there anything you thought we would do in the first three years of retirement that we haven't done?"  My friends, don't ask a question if you're not ready to hear the answer!  He said "Well, I thought we would have more down-time, like more movie nights or times that we cook dinner together."  Ouch.  It was a Wizard of Oz moment - Dorothy always knew there was no place like home, but she just needed to be reminded!  

If I am honest with myself, I recognize that I have developed some retirement habits that mean most evenings are committed to my activities (other than crafting).  Mind you, Spousal Unit is not sitting around twiddling his thumbs - he reads voraciously, loves watching the Lakers (read: LeBron) play basketball, and he has his favorite TV programs, all while cuddling with Maggie the cat. I should also mention that at no point during this conversation did Spousal Unit make me feel guilty about any of this.  In fact, he said that he supports me in all my activities as long as it makes me happy. But, even before this conversation, it has occurred to me more than a few times that going into our two separate worlds at night is not altogether satisfactory.

Swan River, February 20, 2020

Chicken Fiesta Bowl

Craggy Range Bar & Grill

So, I will be making some changes.  I have made some commitments that will wrap up mid-June, and I will follow through on them because it's the right thing to do.  But then I plan to make some significant cut-backs on my community involvement.  After all, no one wants me to stop showering!

It begs the question - what will I START/CONTINUE doing?  Movie nights and cooking dates with the Spousal Unit, for sure.  Personally, I have enjoyed our "wandering aimlessly" tours around Montana, and I want to do more.  Outings with Dear Neighbor Friend are essential.  Wine on the deck? you betcha.

(In February, Spousal Unit and I took our visitor Tim to the iconic Bar Stool Races in Martin City, part of the 42nd annual Cabin Fever Days.  It is just this type of unique Americana that I love to discover and experience.  Check out these videos.)

(When Dear Neighbor Friend and I go cross-country skiing, we are always accompanied by Sophie.  This enchanting dog hides pieces of deer fur under the snow, and when we reach that part of the trail, she retrieves the fur and joyfully tosses it into the air.  Check out this snippet of video - her playfulness is a message to us all!)

I am also really impassioned about an initiative called the Violet Protest.  I first read about it on someone's blog, but I have had a devil of a time tracing back to who it was - whoever you are, thank you!  For anyone in the US, check out the website link above.  "The Violet Protest is a public effort to send 50 hand-made ​textile squares to each and every member of Congress ​in support of core American values. Whether we knit, crochet, quilt, or embroider all 26,750 of these squares — through this social action, and from every corner of America; we as makers of all political persuasions, believe we can employ our willing spirit and our talents to contribute to healing divisions that threaten our country.  This collection of textile squares will be first displayed at Phoenix Art Museum, Fall 2020."

Now that's a CRAFTY cause worthy of my time!

As provocative as this week has been, pondering the relative value of showering versus time with Spousal Unit, I am glad it happened.  Even in retirement, it is possible to get into ruts and routines so deep that we can't see out.  It didn't take Dorothy's tornado to shake me free, but I did have to peek behind the Wizard's curtain.  If you have been my lion, my scarecrow and my tin man, sticking with me throughout this post, I thank you.  I think I am ready to see what the next year of retirement brings, following my Yellow Brick Road!  

 

Mosaic Monday

Welcome to Mosaic Monday, a weekly meme where we get together to share our photo mosaics and collages.
Please include at least one photo mosaic/collage in your post.
The link will be open from 1 p.m. Sunday until 11 p.m. Monday (U.S. Mountain time).
Remember to add the link to your Mosaic Monday post and not the one to your blog.
Please link back to this post so that your readers will be able to visit and enjoy more wonderful mosaics; taking the MM blog button from my sidebar is an easy way to link back.
As host I will visit every participant and leave a comment so that you know I stopped by.
Please try and visit as many other blogs as you can, especially those that join in later, so that everyone's creativity can be appreciated fully.
Thank you for joining in today and sharing your mosaics with us. 

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

The Great American Summer

What does summer in America evoke for you?  Perhaps family vacations.  Perhaps warm, lazy days with nothing better to do than dip your toes in the kiddie paddling pool.  Most certainly the Fourth of July and fireworks.

In Chapter Four of my ongoing summer series (see Chapter One, Two and Three), we celebrate several treasured American summer past-times.

ONE: Visiting a National Park.  On July 2, we cruised the iconic Going to the Sun Road in Glacier National Park with my in-laws.  As many of you know from previous posts, most of this road is closed over the winter due to deep snow.  This year, the road opened to vehicles on June 23.  So, in early July, snow is still abundant above 6,000 feet, and you brace yourself for the brisk temperatures.

Meadow at Logan Pass - glacier lilies emerging

The 'snow line' is very marked on the mountains in the distance;

cars snake along the Going to the Sun Road on the right slope

None of it was enough to discourage my 79-year-old father-in-law, engaged in the challenge of hiking 1.5 miles one-way to Hidden Lake Overlook, on a trail almost completely obscured by snow.  We made it, and then faced the test of the slight downhill slope on the return.  I wonder at the miracle that neither one of us ended up on our behinds!!!

You can spy a corner of unfrozen Hidden Lake in the middle left

Upper left: yep, prevailing wind comes from the west!

Upper right: 'ants' on the Hidden Lake Overlook trail

Lower left: on a clear day you can see forever

Lower right: sun desperately trying to break through

Note: if you read my Savoring September post, you know that we took our former neighbors on this same trail on September 28.   That post shows the first signs of snow and rime on the trail.  Just 10 days later, due to continued winter weather, the Park closed the Going to the Sun Road.  We have come full circle!

TWO: Going to a fireworks display.  The town of Whitefish launches its fireworks from a barge in the center of its eponymous lake.  Angling for the best view, boats of all shapes and sizes put-put carefully around each other before dropping anchor.  (My mother-in-law fretted over a mama duck and several ducklings, that paddled this way and that, seemingly confused by the traffic.  Ultimately, they disappeared in the direction of the lake's outlet into Whitefish River.)  Stand-up paddleboards inch into the open spaces.  Crowds build at the beach, blanketing every square inch as the sun sinks behind Lion Mountain.  You can feel the anticipation growing, until suddenly the first 'whoosh' is heard out on the water, and the crowd answers back ; "OOH, AAH."  It has begun.

THREE: Small-town glories.  I adore small towns.  They have character.  A slower pace.  A size you can wrap your arms around.  And often, in the summer, bountiful flowers.  Such is Bigfork, nestled in an elbow of the Swan River.

Upper left: Bee balm; Upper right: no idea, but I think it's cool

We sauntered along the Swan River nature trail, and noshed on picnic nibbles, before heading to Electric Avenue (yes, that's the name of its main street!) for a peek in the shops.

Man with Hat and his parents looking for Sasquatch … LOL!

In my case, my attention was drawn to the riot of color in the beds and baskets maintained by the retail establishments.  You can market yourself on the Web and social media, but sometimes your best 'advertising' is right outside your shop's doors - what attracts you to enter a store that is new to you?

Lupines pointing the way to Whitefish Lake seen in the distance

FOUR:  A family hike (with gondola).  With gondola, you ask?  Well, in the summer, Whitefish Mountain Resort operates Chair One with conventional chairs, small gondolas, and equipment especially designed to transport mountain bikes.  It benefits the hikers and bikers who prefer to traverse the mountain one-way (downhill!!!)  So, on a warm July day (only four days after our visit to Logan Pass!!), we introduced my in-laws to a gondola - chalk up another new life experience!!!  At the summit of Big Mountain (6,817 feet), you have a 360-degree view of alpine splendor: the Flathead Valley and long-distance views of Glacier National Park and the Canadian Rockies, not to mention the Bob Marshall, Great Bear, Scapegoat and Cabinet wilderness areas.  When you can finally drag yourself from the vista, the Danny On trail takes 3.8 miles to wind its way back to the ski village.

In early July, the mountain is awash with glacier lilies, lupines and other spring wildflowers.

Upper left: Parrot's Beak; Middle left: Glacier Lily; Lower left: Fairy Bells

The trail plays peek-a-boo with the views, as it passes among stands of old-growth forest, or dips into a chute between the hills.  For Spousal Unit and me, it was entertaining to see the mountain in this context, now that we have experienced a season of skiing/riding these slopes.  You can imagine that much of it looks different now that it has been freed from 33 feet worth of snowfall …

Penstemon (there are dozens of species and the blue/purple

penstemons are difficult to identify at the species level)

The Danny On Trail was dedicated as a memorial to Danny On, a Forest Service ecologist and renowned nature photographer, conservationist and avid skier on Big Mountain.  Danny generously gave his time to teach novices about nature, photography, skiing and forestry.  Danny died at the age of 55 in a skiing accident on Big Mountain.

Perhaps this is a reminder to each of us to make the most of every day, especially on the simplest of traditions.












Linking to:

All Seasons

I Like Thursday

Mosaic Monday

Nature Notes

Our World Tuesday

Sharon's Photo Souvenirs

Skywatch Friday

Wednesday Around the World

Willy Nilly Friday