I have lived in what has been a slow, but evolutionary normal for 76.92 years, 76 years plus 11 months. In this speedily evolving and so-called new normal I know I won’t be alive to see the end of it. It might as well be considered the end now. There aren’t enough years left in my life to find out if it ever gets better. And what would be better?
Commentary
This was the original category for journalistic writing for the first of Ginny’s photo classes. I kept it up as a journal while taking some of her other classes. The subheadings were class topics of various other classes I attended. There is quite a span of time when I didn’t add anything here, and most of the photos for her classes were printed—I have piles of them. This category used to be called “Photo Classes” because the posts were more like a journal. I made this category into one of the subheadings under the “Photo Classes” heading. Some of this writing is sickeningly personal and totally not newsworthy.
Leaving The Ferry Behind
Even though I had already “retired” once back in 2008, I retired again (unofficially) right before the Pandemic of Cancellations started in 2020, I spent my last day working at my job for the Washington State Ferries at the Port Townsend dock, and wrote this the next day.
Hope Report and Musings on the Elder Years
Well, I have never seen a more unresponsive dog. She has not wagged her tail or barked since she arrived. Sometimes she seems interested in food or treats, but usually her head is down and she is plodding towards her bed or across the road when we go on our somewhat stilted walks in around the same block. It is hard to interact with her. She doesn’t mind petting and is receptive, but there is no response. Even her level of submission can’t really be called submission because she doesn’t wince or cringe or lie down belly up. This must be dog senility.
Here’s Hope
Brought this old dog home on Monday, January 9. Heard about a group of Shelties needing a home for old dogs. Since my dog and I are old, I rushed right down. Her name is Hope, but I call her Hopie.
Community
December 1 = November 30 late at night. I have about three hours tomorrow and Friday to get my final “Focus on Yourself” photo class day done. I realize I have no trouble focusing on myself. It is all I have to focus on. So according to the class notes, I need to pick from “Community,” “Landscape,” or “Dreams.”
Contemplating a cold
I am sick with a runny nose. If I didn’t blow my nose and sop it up with a tissue every few minutes, would it keep on draining out and fill a bucket?
Ferry on Thanksgiving Day
Lots of nice people at the ferry today. I can’t believe I was driving to work at 4:55 am. Some people said, “Thank you for working today.” Mr. Rosecrantz one of the town politicians came through and I mentioned to him that I knew who he was and he said, “You can see me every Sunday at church.” I cringe.
Our books are published
Christine got them at the printer. Says they are beautiful. The printer is proud of them. They got a new machine and amazingly enough Christine is happy with the color. All it took was a new machine. I am happy to know it was not my work that made it look as awful as I heard it was. Anyway the printer wanted to know who designed it and Christine gave us both due praise, her photographs and my design, although she really loves to be involved as she should in more than “just” photography.