The sky is clear this am and we head out at 5:30 to enjoy it, with low tide a +1.1 at 7:40. The eagles were out enjoying the sun too, and the moon is still up. Have a wonderful morning!


We hiked out Dungeness Spit today. Not all the way, but about half way. It is gorgeous even though the sun stayed hidden.
This rock was bigger than my boot. Lots and lots of beautiful rocks!
Hiking Dungeness Spit—A sandy stretch that keeps on growing
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: lilac.
I took this on Marrowstone Island. There are often remains of buildings or cars or engines or boats or docks. And which is this, do you think?
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: concrete.
your heart is an agate
clear stone
you have won
sort of
you think
but I am water
I am waves
I will smash you against the other rocks
and wear you down
I am water
I carve you like a laser
you wear my name
carved in your stone shaped heart
it is already written there
on your stone shaped heart
faint, because water wears slowly
water wearing stone
over time
_________________
April 21, 2022
The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is referee. I might need one. A referee. Or a keeper.
Yesterday I went for a walk. No big deal, right? Except that I am still jet lagged from a trip and I had to stay an extra eight days because of I got (thankfully mild) covid and my muscles are still a bit weird.
I go with my friend J, who usually walks 16-20 miles on what he calls day hikes. We walk from my house to North Beach and then out North Beach nearly to Glass Beach. I bring water. He brings water and cliff bars. I eat one. We turn back. It is glorious and gorgeous and sunny and he is up visiting from Portland. We talk and talk.
I am pretty tired by the time we get to the parking lot and think, oh good. Then I remember: no, we walked from my house. Two more miles. I am trying not to limp by the time I home. He goes off to work some more and I crash on the couch.
After a bit I realize that I am not hungry and I feel peculiar and my legs hurt a lot. Uh-oh. I get up. I can’t remember the name of the muscle disorder, but I remember what it does. Seriously overdoing can cause muscle breakdown. This in turn can be very bad for the kidneys. I need fluids, right away. I mix 12 ounces of water with a little sugar and salt. Later I add bicarb, baking soda. It doesn’t taste either bad or good. I eat three dried apricots: potassium.
After 48 ounces of this and two hours, I start feeling a little better, and my kidneys start working again. My legs hurt less. I feed the cats and I still don’t want food. Ok, well, I won’t starve over night. More fluids and to sleep.
I finally have a little bit of an appetite this morning. Not much. I am tired and a bit sore but not like yesterday. Whew. I need a keeper.
Do you think the sea lions are talking to the Beloved? When they are on the rock with their heads tilted back, looking up?
Are they trying to feel the sun?
Do they have reflux and digest better this way?
Do you think the sea lions are talking to the Beloved?
I think doctoring makes one cynical. Or at least messes up the scale of normal.
Maybe there are Marcus Welby docs out there, but I don’t know any. Doctoring messes up one’s scale. A wound is compared to black horrifying gangrene to the knee, pain is compared to screaming delirium tremens or full thickness burns or heroin withdrawal, one in four adults can be diagnosed with a psychiatric disorder at some time in their life…. so then, what is normal?
What is normal for relationships? How many deeply happy marriages do you know? If half end in divorce, what are the odds?
Where is the line in love? Where is the line between loving the other person no matter what and wait, that is domestic violence. Where is the line for abuse? Do people agree on it?
No. They do not. What I think is behavior that is frightening may be normal behavior to my partner. Is it ok to drink until one is drunk? I don’t want to be around it. I saw enough of that shit at work. I deal with addiction daily. If someone wants to get drunk, they can choose to do that. But not around me. And no, I don’t want to date them. And if they are working themselves to death, is that ok? Well, I might be a tad hypersensitive to that, since I nearly managed that myself. So I don’t want to be around that either. That might be viewed as noble self-sacrifice. But at work, I see the caregiver die before the recipient of the care, all too often. Especially in older couples, where neither one wants to let anyone in the house to help….
….but then, some people do hear me. A woman thanked me last year for saying she should quit covering for her husband. She was afraid, but backed off. He is able to do more than she expected and he also is more respectful and kind to her. She thanked me and I got all shy and tongue-tied.
My definition of love is listening. Someone who listens and hears and lets me listen and hear. When each person can say what they are thinking and feeling and wanting and worried about…. because if only one person is speaking, if only one person is determining what the relationship is, it is not a relationship.
The tide goes out and comes back in. A reinstallation that happens daily all the world over.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: reinstall.
Ha. I got confused and posted this a day ahead of my Ragtag Daily Prompt.
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