Tales from my Surfboard Part 4: Contemplation Rock

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Lily had taken a week off from work and wanted to come out to New York to visit. I could only get a 4-day weekend off from work and was worried about her being bored the other days of her trip. When I was on the Cape, I had waves to ride and beaches to explore. Upstate New York has more cows than people. Quite frankly, it’s boring.

We decided to organize a reunion of college friends that same week. Instead of coming to my apartment, Lily did some research and chose a location in the Adirondacks that was about equidistant for everyone. Well, it was equidistant between me and our friends. Lily had a bit more of a trip from the Cape, but she said she didn’t mind.

There was a small grouping of about 5 campsites together in a loop on a lake in the most remote part of the Adirondack Park that we reserved for the week. Lily and I shared a tent on the water. The other four sites were occupied by friends we had gone to college with. People could set up their tent, come and go as they pleased. We spend nights by campfire playing cards. This was our reunion.

Everyone had arrived on Monday. The four days I had off meant I was there Wednesday through Saturday. I felt bad I was not there for camp set up or tear down, but those were the days I could get off from work. Lily had an old coleman tent from growing up that she set up on our site. I brought an extra cooler with me to replenish supplies of both ice and food. I remember that Lily had brought a whole watermelon to share with everyone. There was no room in the coolers for it, so we floated it in the water to keep it cool. She was able to place branches in a section of the water in a way that would keep the watermelon in one spot and prevent it from floating away into the rest of the lake, or sinking. 

Because we were on a land-locked lake, there would be no surfing this trip. Lily did use the roof rack on the car to bring the canoe. Before the Prius, there was the Subaru. During the day, we had great times with our college friends. We went off hiking in a group on the trails. We would hang out at one campsite for meals, everyone contributing something to the meal. There was music blaring, card games played, and memories made. 

The first day was cloudy, but dry. I remember that night it started raining. It rained the rest of the time we were there. No matter that we changed into dry clohes, it was like we could not escape the rain or the damp.

There was a lull in the rain the second night I was there. It was late – dark – and Lily and I were in the tent. We were changing into dry clothes and still felt damp after all the rain. Everyone else seemed to be asleep – it was into quiet hours for the campground, so if people were up, they were not making any noise that extended beyond their own campsite. 

The rain had stopped, or, at least, it was more of a fine mist. Lily looked at me with a grin and asked “how about a walk?” I grinned back and nodded. We did this a lot on the Cape. Late at night, in the wee hours of the morning, we would take off for a walk on the beach. We had some of our best conversations that way whether we said anything or not. You know how it is with that one person – how you can have a complete conversation with them without saying anything at all?

Lilly and I put some extra layers on, as it was chilly out. We left the tent and Lilly immediately headed towards the water. There was a giant rock on the lake, a little bit offshore. Lily insisted she wanted to go out and sit on the rock so we could be in the middle of the lake to look at the stars and the moon. I didn’t know how we could possibly get to the rock without getting in the water. With all the rain, we were pretty much wet all day anyway, so why not? 

Taking the canoe out would have been illegal without a light. I could tell that Lily just wanted to be in the moonlight. Somehow, in the dark and the fog, Lily managed to find smaller rocks to step on and use to get to the large rock safely without having to go into the water. We jumped from rock to rock like it was the lava game you play as a child.

When we got to the rock we sat cuddled together for warmth. I remember leaning back and just gazing at the stars. We were in the least inhabited part of the Adirondack Park. When you looked at the night sky, there were so many stars, it was like gazing into Heaven. You could see the entire universe from there, or at least, it felt that way. 

We could definitely see more stars than what we saw on Cape Cod. Even at night on the Cape, there was always lights. There were lighthouses and buoys providing guidance and safety to passing boats and ships in the night. 

In the middle of the Adirondacks, there was nothing but wilderness. We had camped in the middle of 14,000 acres of nothingness. It is the least inhabited area of New York State. The stars in the sky go on forever.

We gazed at the stars for I don’t know how long. It felt like forever, and it was a beautiful forever. It was one of those nights where you just didn’t want it to end, and it didn’t – until it did.

It felt like we were the only two people in the universe, sitting on a rock in the middle of a lake gazing at the stars. In an attempt to not break the magic of the moment, Lily spoke in a whisper, “we can do this, right?”

I knew what she was asking. We were in a long distance relationship. I had left Massachusetts to come back to New York for school. Lily had stayed in Massachusetts. I had wanted to stay with her, but I couldn’t. The small liberal arts college we had attended cut my major. I was there on scholarship. I needed to complete my education. Unfortunately, that meant coming back to New York where I still had residency and tuition was cheaper.

Even though I had absolutely no clue the answer – I had no idea if we could do it or not – I gave her the only answer I could – “yes” – because in that moment, I believed.

We whispered into the night, talking over the logistics of our situation. We both had goals we were trying to achieve. Life took unexpected twists and turns in our endeavor to reach those goals. We were up against some pretty daunting odds. The world at the time was a scary place. There were so many things to navigate.

Despite all the hurdles, we spoke of our hopes and dreams that night. I believed. I believed we would make them all come true. “Yes, Lily. We can do this. We’ve got to.”

Little did we both know what lay ahead of the two of us over the next 23 years. We didn’t know all the twists and turns life and society would take. 

In that moment, sitting there on Contemplation Rock, as we came to call it, we both believed that no matter what life would bring, we would always come back to each other, even if it was only as ships passing in the night. 

Stay tuned for another Tale from my Surfboard, honoring memories of loved ones lost to COVID. To be continued …

Wonderful Year 2021

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The past two years have been hard for everyone. I’ve lost so many people to COVID that I don’t bother to keep count anymore. It’s more than 10. Last year was especially difficult. Despite the challenges, I have to say that 2021 was a wonderful year.

One of my favorite holiday movies is It’s A Wonderful Life. It’s not all unicorns and rainbows. It’s about the lowest point in a person’s life and how a community came together to help them. It sounds cheerful, but the ending is only happy in contrast to the dark depths of despair that led to the conclusion.

This year was one of my most challenging. I lost my job for the first time ever. In over 25 years of working, I have never been unemployed before. On top of that, someone stole my identity and committed fraud on my social security number so I was not able to access unemployment. To add insult to injury, my former employer knew about the fraud – at least 5 months before they terminated me – and never told me about it or did anything to respond to the Department of Labor’s inquiry about suspicious activity, 

I was absolutely terrified last spring that I was going to end up homeless, separated from the cats, dead from COVID, or some combination of the three. I’ve lived through some pretty tough times, but last spring was the worst.

One friend from childhood stepped up and organized a GoFundMe for me. People I’ve never met donated. It took a community, but that community and those donations paid our monthly bills while I was unemployed and searching for work. It took me two months to find a new job.

Thankfully in the middle of this mess, internet service and improved cell phone service finally reached my rural little area. I was able to find a permanent remote job. I am able to pay the bills and keep us all together.

Much like Bedford Falls came together to help George, the pets and humans of Cats of Twitter (and also just kind humans), came together to help me. I cannot express how thankful I am and always will be for the kindness and generosity that helped us through that trying time. Unemployment is not something I ever want to experience again.

It truly has been a wonderful year.

I am thankful that I am able to work from home. I can be home with the cats. They are my favorite coworkers. I will always treasure this time I am getting to be at home with them. 

I am thankful that 2021 was the best year of my running career in nearly a decade. This was my highest mileage year since 2015. In 2016, I was in the hospital with a bad MS epsiode. It’s been a long, hard road to get back to this point. Not only was this my highest mileage year, but I successfully completed two half marathons within a week of each other. 

I typically have to space my races 5-6 months apart. I have never had races this close on the calendar before. I was able to achieve medals 19 and 20. It’s hard to believe that we are in the middle of a global pandemic, and I currently have 20 marathon medals. 

Sometimes I do get sad and lonely about all of the people I have lost in the pandemic. I can list on my fingers the number of people I know from before the pandemic who are still alive. The people I lost cannot be replaced. However, this past year, I have made new friends. I think I have more friends right now than I have ever had in my life. I am so grateful for each one. I treasure every one.

All of the friends I have made, I have not met in person. I have met them online through the amazing Cats of Twitter community. Yes, we are on Twitter. My cats are very popular on the internet and they don’t even know it.

I treasure the friends I have made. Some talk to me daily. It’s nice to have people to talk to again about my day and to hear about how their day went. I love learning about new people, new places, new cultures. In a world of pandemic cruelty, there are still good and kind people in this world.

We sent more Christmas photo cards this year than we have ever sent. (I do still have some left, so if we missed you, let me know,) I do Chrsitmas photo cards so people can see the cats. The past few years in the pandemic, they have become the only way people get to see me too.

I have a friend in England who sent me a package of the most beautiful Chrismtas presents I have ever received. We have never met in real life, but I feel like she knows me. Each gift was useful, meaningful, and precious. The artwork above was done by her daughter of the three cats for me.

Another package arrived the week before Christmas unlabeled. I had to figure out who sent it (I did). It was from another online friend I have never met and was filled with presents. It’s not the presents themselves that mattered. It’s the kindness and the thoughtfulness in them. Again, this person has never met me in person, and yet every item seemed like it was chosen just for me. Every present was perfect.

I was in foster care when younger. I remember getting Christmas presents and feeling like a third wheel. I was one of those kids you “adopt” for the holidays – the ones where you pick a tag off a charity tree to shop for a 15 year old girl. Yes, I received lovely, age appropriate gifts. Yes, I was thankful to receive the gifts and to be remembered on Christmas. Yet, the gifts were not personal. It was just a tag on a tree where some stranger bought presents for a child they never met.

Even though I have not met my online friends in-person, the gifts they sent me were all personal. I feel so special and so loved. For the first time in my life, I am not just a tag on a charity tree. People cared enough to do something nice for me.

Of course, the best gift this Christmas is the fact that the cats and I are still together. We are together thanks to the kindness and generosity of strangers who stepped up and helped us during our time of need last spring. I will be forever grateful to all the people who donated to keep us all together this year. I am in awe and amazement of your kindness. It is humbling.

As challenging as 2021 may have been, it really has been a wonderful year. 
Thank you to everyone for loving us and supporting us through these challenging times. I am amazed and delighted that there is still kindness in the world. I am so thankful for the time I get to spend with the cats helping them live their best lives. 

Tales from my Surfboard Part 3: The Drive-In

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It was one of those rare visits when we actually had the entire day to spend together. My visits were short due to my work schedule. I typically only had off from work from the time I got off Friday night until I went in for my next overnight shift Sunday night. 

Since Lily worked second shift, if I drove to the Cape Friday night, we would have Saturday morning together before she went to work. If I waited until Saturday morning to make the drive, we were like two ships passing in the night. Hello / goodbye / don’t forget the Red Sox are playing tonight.

On this particular visit, I made the drive Friday night and Lily had all day Saturday off. We did not have any set plan for the day other than traveling down Cape. We planned to drive the Old King’s Highway towards Provincetown. We did not actually expect to go to P-town on this visit. We were just going to load the surfboard on top of the Prius, throw the beach bags in the trunk and set out for the scenic drive to see where we ended up. 

That’s what we did.

Windows down, car CD player blaring, we enjoyed the lazy scenic drive. Traffic was light on 6A. We were not headed towards any tourist destinations. 

It was about mid-morning when we realized that in our excitement, we had headed out without breakfast. We had just wanted to get on the road to beat the heat of the day.

It was convenient then, when we saw a little sandwich board on the side of the road that had “Coffee Ahead!” written on it in chalk. The sun was shining, and there was a gentle breeze as we were close to the ocean. There were 3 signs for coffee ahead in total.

There was just a dirt parking lot near a small structure that looked a bit like a lemonade stand. It appeared to be staffed by a bunch of college kids on their summer break. This was their summer job in exchange for time on the Cape, we supposed. We both ordered delicious coffee and had muffins that were bigger than any muffin I’ve ever had. The muffins were so big, they could have been waffles in another life.

We enjoyed our stop in this little garden type area and carried on. Fortified with coffee and muffins, we decided to head to Truro and have a glass of wine before the weekend got busy with tasting.

The winery had just opened when we arrived. We had fun looking around the gift shop. We headed outside to the back veranda. There was a nice stone area with a beautiful garden and tables dotted about. We decided to forego tasting and just asked for one glass – a rose for Lily and the driest white on offer for me. We sat peacefully listening to music. There was a quartet of musicians in the garden playing music that made it feel like we were relaxing in a fairy place.

We stayed relaxing until just after lunch when it started to get busy with tasters coming in for the day. We had lunch at our little garden hideaway table. I remember it as one of the most delicious grilled sandwiches I had ever had. The sandwiches were grilled outside in the garden with us too. 

We purchased a case of wine, a few glasses and momentos, and loaded those in the trunk with our beach bags. I remember picking out some of the signature wines that were in glass bottles made like lighthouses. 

Lunch out of the way, we still had no agenda. Lily and I once again cruised down old 6A just to see what we could find. 

We found a little secluded beach just outside of Truro and set up a cozy little beach camp for a few hours. It was one of those perfect days. I remember it being a day full of sunshine, water, sand, and laughter. 

We just played on the beach until well into the evening when we were hungry again. That beach was almost like our own private oasis. Only a few other beachgoers were there that day. 

After a day in the sun, we headed down the Cape a little more looking for food again.

We did not have far to travel when we came across a little ice cream stand that also had food items – hot dogs and fries, things like that. We decided that worked and enjoyed our dinner surrounded by families with small children and groups of teens out for some summer fun. 

There was a bulletin board at the ice cream shop /hot dog stand where we happened to see the listing for the drive-in in Wellfleet. There wasn’t anything I really wanted to see, but one flick that Lily did. The drive-in offered two shows. The first show was some Godzilla-like thing followed by the picture that Lily wanted to see.

Of course, we headed to Wellfleet to the drive-in.

We tuned the radio to the station required to be able to hear the movie sound. I remember getting our beach blankets out of the trunk. We cuddled together in the backseat to watch the movies with our legs up on the headrests. It was cramped in the backseat of a Prius, but that was also what made it nice.

I don’t remember the movies much, although I do remember the movie that she had wanted to see. I made sure to buy the DVD of it and have seen it many times since. It was actually a book that had been made into a movie. I remember our only argument over seeing that particular movie was that I had said “but I haven’t read the book first.” Lily laughed and said it didn’t matter. We would watch it anyway and could read the book later. 

To this day, I think it’s the only time I’ve seen a movie before reading the book of something.

I remember how much fun we had at the drive-in that night. It was the most magical time.

I don’t even remember the drive home after. I remember we had the most perfect day. 

Of course, Sunday morning I had to leave for home so that I could go to work that day. 

The drive-in we went to is closed now. I will always remember that day as special.

To be continued with another Tale from My Surfboard.  

 

The Aesthete Blogger Award

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Thank you so much to @CompassStories for nominating me! I’ve been so glad to meet you and to read your work. I enjoy following your stories on wordpress and on twitter.

To learn more about the Aesthete Blogger award, here is the original post and creator:

Admita @ The fictional journal and their 

https://thefictionaljournal.wordpress.com/2021/03/23/the-aesthete-blogger-award/

(I am not the best on technology, so hopefully I am doing all the rules correctly.)

Tell me something about this world that you admire.

I would have to say resiliency. Even in the face of adversity, people persevere. We are able to find creative solutions to difficult problems. No matter how bad things get, people keep going and don’t give up. When people use that resiliency to show kindness to others is when I think humanity is at it’s best. 

What is your favorite form of creativity?

This one is so hard! I love art, music, photography, writing, theatre. It’s just hard to choose. If I absolutely had to choose, I would say slam poetry. Slam poetry combines a piece of those other elements I love. It is a performance art form of the spoken word and is a type of theatre. I have written and performed one slam poetry piece, only because I find I have to be truly inspired to work in that medium. 

 

@CompassStories questions:

What do you enjoy most about your work?

To my surprise and delight, my work has evolved in ways I never thought would happen. I started my blog as a way to showcase my photography with short life quips and posts on simple living. In addition to simple living, I am also writing reflective autobiographical pieces (Tales from my Surfboard) and have started writing fiction. I am very proud of the fact that all of the images on my blog over the past six years is my own original photography. However, I have gotten away from the landscape photography focus and have put more of myself into my writing. I have been vulnerable in ways I didn’t think I would allow myself to do. It’s been freeing, really.

How have you gained an audience over time?

I’m still not sure how many people that follow me are real or are robots (sorry, folks!). I try to keep things real, genuine, honest. I just keep putting myself out there. I figure even if no one reads it, it’s an exercise for me just to put myself out there. I’m honestly not sure about gaining an audience. I’ve never gone for the numbers. To me it’s more an outlet for my voice, whether my voice is heard or I’m screaming into the abyss.

What’s your favorite season and why?

My favorite season is fall. I’m a marathon runner, and all the best races are in fall. It’s easier to train through summer than it is through 4 feet of snow in winter! I love the fall weather and the leaves. I also have MS, so fall weather in the 50 degree fahrenheit range is perfect for me. It’s the magical time of year when it’s baseball season, hockey season, running season and football season all at the same time. I also love to go camping in fall.

What are your current favorite shows?

I don’t have cable and I do not stream shows online. I work at a computer all day, so streaming a show on the computer during leisure time is not relaxing for me! I do have favorite shows that I watch on DVD, so they tend to be older shows. My five favorite shows are: Cheers, MASH, Star Trek: The Original Series, Chicago Fire, Chicago PD, and Six Feet Under (only one of the 5 I don’t own on DVD – I borrowed them from the library). 

Share something you created:

I recently started writing fiction. I am currently working on a three-part short-story series set in a fictional town called Golden Fork in the Gold Rush Era of the United States. I have had a few private readers of part one. I am currently working on part two of the series. 

In Honor of my Aesthete Blogger Award nomination, here is an exclusive: 

Never before published or revealed: The Golden Fork Series (working title) Part One: Prologue 

Prologue

The peddler turned his carriage around the bend late in the afternoon. This would be his last stop of the day before bedding down for the night. The past few days, he had been traveling through remote homesteads with miles between each one. After this house, he would travel almost a week to reach the booming town of Golden Fork that had sprung up near a mine.

It was a good thing, too. The peddler was low on wares and needed to reach a place with more people to replenish his wagon. Business had been good on this trip. Many people were stocking up on things for the holidays coming.

As the peddler started up to the last house, a young girl started running toward him. He stopped, unsure of whether there was some emergency or she was just eager for his wares.

As she approached him breathlessly, he could see she carried a bundle. The peddler stopped the horses and waited for her to catch her breath. He tipped his hat “Ma’am.”

“Hello, Sir. Are you by chance heading towards the mining town?”

“I am,” he replied.

“I’m wondering if you might be willing to give me a ride to the town?”

The peddler was puzzled. The mining town of Golden Fork was a week’s trip on horse. “Ah, look here, miss. I don’t take passengers. I’m not a ferry or a train. You don’t have kinfolk to go to town? What do you need and I can see if I have it here in my wagon.”

The girl was insistent. “Please, Sir. There is no train here. I just have to leave. I won’t be any trouble to you. Look here,” she uncovered the package she held in her arms. “I can pay my way,” she continued. “I do fine embroidery and millinery work. You can have these linens to sell in exchange for my passage. I have skills. I intend to find work in the town.”

The peddler looked at the most beautiful handiwork he had seen and thought of how much he could charge for it. The holidays were coming and people were spending their savings on fine gifts. He pulled on his beard, thoughtful, and looked towards the house. If there was someone else home, they were either inside the home or out in the field. He looked at the girl more closely.

“How old are ye, miss? It wouldn’t be proper for me to take a traveler all that way with no chaperone. Are you running away from something?”

The girl stood taller and looked more dignified than her 18 years. “I’m old enough to know my own mind. I need passage to the town for work. They won’t miss me here. The wages are needed more than my company.”

The peddler looked back at the home again. It was still quiet. He was thoughtful. “What else do you have in that package?” He asked. “I’m low on supplies and would not want to be accused of being inappropriate with a female as I roll into town.”

The girl answered, “I have enough food for myself for 5 days. If you can share some supplies, I am willing to do more handiwork to earn my passage if you have something in your wagon that can be embroidered or sewn.”

He continued to stare at her.

“I’ve lived here all my life. Worked the land too. I’m fine sleeping on the ground if you sleep in the wagon so it is proper. Please, I need passage to town.” 

The house continued to be silent. Still skeptical about the arrangement, the peddler gave a slight nod. He knew what it was like for your wages to be needed more than your company. He held a hand out to the girl and helped her into the wagon. 

“There are some linens back there. You can do what you can,” he said. 

“Thank you, Sir,” she beamed back at him as she accepted his offer of a hand into the wagon. 

With the girl named Rose aboard, the peddler looked again at the forlorn house. He turned the horses and started on the trail that would lead to Golden Fork. It was time to be going and find a safe place to bed down for the night. 

Rose did not say much on the trip to Golden Fork. The peddler still wondered if she was running from something. At the same time, he was glad for the quiet. The peddler had never before taken on a passenger. True to her word, Rose went through all of the items in the wagon and was able to sew and embroider even the most simple of scarves into things of beauty. He would definitely be able to raise his prices on those items for the holidays. 

Being a gentleman, the peddler did not take her up on her offer to for her to sleep on the ground on the journey. He had her sleep in the wagon and he slept on the ground. He figured it would be safer if she was out of sight. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of being inappropriate. This arrangement was weird enough as it was.

After a long week of traveling, Rose and the peddler were only about a mile outside of Golden Fork. 

“Where should I drop you when we get into town?” The peddler asked. 

Rose tried to think of a way to evade the question. She had never been into town and had no idea what was there or what to expect. “Oh, just on Main Street will be fine,” she replied.

The peddler raised an eyebrow. He seemed to know that she didn’t really have a destination in mind. He wondered again if there was something from which she was running. She was a polite young girl, but not much of a conversationalist over the past week they had traveled. 

Rose stayed in the back of the wagon as they made their way into town. The peddler ignored her request of Main Street, thinking it would look improper for him to just drop her off there without a chaperone. The peddler made his way to a side street of town, where he could stable the horse and park the wagon. There was a boarding house in town for miners and other traveling menfolk. He had never seen females at the boarding house and wondered where Rose would stay in town.

That wasn’t his business. The peddler had already become too involved when he agreed to take her on as a passenger. He pulled up to the stable where the horses would stay and let Rose know she could come down from the wagon. 

Rose exited the wagon with bright, wide eyes. She seemed to take everything in as if she was seeing town for the first time. She actually was, but the peddler didn’t know that. 

“Look here,” the peddler started. “You have kin or someplace to stay? There is a boarding house, but it’s for mining men. I’m not sure where a young lady would stay.”

“Oh, I’m off to find a job with board,” Rose jutted her chin out with confidence. “I’m sure that my skills are in demand here in town.” 

The peddler looked at her skeptically and then offered, “Hey, you did nice work on those scarves. You should take one with you so you have a piece of your work to show them like how you showed me.” 

Rose nodded and thanked the peddler for letting her take a scarf. He knew she would not accept coin for her work and it would look improper if he were to give her coin here in front of the stables. 

“Well, time to get the horses taken care of and the wagon put away. Good luck to you,” said the peddler.

“Thank you for the hospitality,” Rose replied.

She hesitated before leaving. The peddler reminded her “I’ll be at the boarding house for a few days before I take off again.”

Rose nodded. She smiled, and then started off from the stables towards Main Street and her new life.

Main Street was busy. But then, being from the country, Rose had never seen an actual Main Street. She knew Golden Fork was a mining town but it didn’t dawn on her just how many men would be about. 

Main Street held a boarding house, a saloon, a barber, general store, a dinner room, and a post office. It appeared that there were other businesses on some of the side streets too. So far she had not seen a dress shop or a millinery. Those might be on a side street. 

Rose looked around to try to find a friendly face to ask for directions. It seemed like there were a lot of men in a hurry. It was early morning, and they all seemed on their way out of town to the mines. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose caught a woman, a little bit older than herself, duck into the general store. Of course! The general store would be the perfect place to start her search in looking for work. She could sew and make clothes for them to sell. 

Determined, she hiked up her skirts and headed towards the general store.

(This has been your exclusive sneak peak at the fictional Gold Rush town of Golden Fork in 1849.)

Nominate some people and spread the love:

Lou Farrell @LouFarr00389955

Ami @DaysWithAmi

Lia @ConduitOfMagic 

Rebecca @chipmunkofpower

Sue Kerr @PghLesbian24

My four questions to my nominees:

What inspired you to start your blog / writing? 

What is your favorite time of day and setting where you feel most creative?

What is your favorite coffee or tea and why?

What is your favorite era of history and why?

Aesthete Award Rules:

  • Use the official logo/graphic of the award and display it on your blog.
  • List the rules.
  • Show some love to the one who nominated you!
  • Mention the creator (Asmita@ the Fictional Journal) and link it back to the original post.
  • Tell me a something about this world that you admire.
  • What is your favourite form of creativity?
  • Nominate 7 lovely people and notify them by commenting on their posts; spread some love!
  • Ask your nominees 4 questions.
  • Share something you created. (can be anything!)
  • And lastly, just so you know: I LOVE YOUR CREATIONS!

Tales from my Surfboard Part 2: The Window

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We did not set out to live a Melissa Etheridge song, it just kind of turned out that way. Of course, I had a key to the house. I arrived at Lily’s fairly late – it was about 2 am. I drove straight through to get there as soon as I got off work. 

I knew she was still up or had just gone to bed. She worked second shift and it takes time to wind down after work. That, and the Red Sox had won that night. I’m sure she had danced around the living room about that. 

Completely bypassing the front door, I went to the bedroom window, which was already partway open to let in the night air. It was August and the weather was hot. She lived a few blocks from the ocean, so the breeze was not as strong here, but there was enough to allow some relief from the summer heat. 

I opened the window the rest of the way and climbed through. I had been doing this for years. I used to use the door when I arrived, until the Big Commitment Fight. Since that, I always entered through the window when I first arrived.

We had been playing this game for about 6 years now. I had a key. I used to use the front door. Lily started talking about commitment and moving in together. We had been through this before. The last time she talked commitment, I moved out of state (there were other factors that went into that decision too). Yet, I still kept coming back. When someone is your soul mate, you are still drawn to them, no matter how scared you may be.

Well, the Big Commitment Fight, I stated that I would not move in. I didn’t have a reason, or at least, not a valid one. The reason was fear. I was young, I was broken, and I was terrified of commitment to something good. You see, I was much better at self-sabotage than I was at making things work.

Well, anyways, in the course of the Big Commitment Fight, Lily screamed at me “The next time you walk through that door, you better be prepared to stay.” Thus, the reason why I now climbed through the window when I first arrive. 

She knew I was coming. I always called or sent a text message ahead of time. Sometimes she had weeks notice. Sometimes I said “I’m at Trader Joe’s (in Hyannis) what do you want for dinner?” I always gave a heads up of my arrival. Even though I had a key and an open invitation, I didn’t want to abuse it. After all, I didn’t live there.

We were friends, first and foremost. We had this unspoken agreement. If one of us was with someone, we were just friends. The times when we were both “available,” we were with each other. I knew on this particular visit that Lily was alone.

I climbed through the window at 2 am. Lily stirred, so I whispered “hey it’s me,” and she went back to sleep. I crept to the kitchen and put my car keys on the table before settling in and getting ready for bed.

That was another part of our unspoken arrangement – the car keys. We always traded keys via the kitchen table. Lily’s Prius had the necessary roof rack and ties to transport my surfboard that my Corolla did not. Her Prius also had all the requisite stickers and tags that allowed me access to the beaches using a local vehicle. When I drove the Prius into beach parking, they never even checked my license to see I wasn’t a Massachusetts resident. They just noticed all the tags on the car checked out. Lily would take the keys to my New York Corolla so she had it for work and errands.

Keys on the table, I jumped in the shower quick before bed. I was careful not to get water all over the floor. One of Lily’s complaints every time I visit – “there is sand everywhere.” I didn’t want to make a bigger mess than necessary. 

Shower taken, I climbed into bed. Tomorrow was Saturday. I was going to get up and take my board to one of my favorite beaches. Lily had to work, but that was okay. We had the morning to spend together before she had to work. I fell asleep looking forward to tomorrow. 

To be continued …

Tales from my Surfboard Part 1: The End

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My surfboard is gone. No, it wasn’t stolen. No, I didn’t sell it. I’m not quite sure what happened to it, but it’s gone. I’m not delusional or amnesic.  I had the surfboard for over 20 years. I had bought it on the west coast in the late 90s. It came east in the back of a pickup truck. 

Living in a small New York apartment, there was no room for a surfboard where I was living. I am also in UPstate New York, which is landlocked. Of course, you can surf the Great Lakes during hurricane season when the wake is good and the water so cold you even freeze in a wet suit. However, it’s not good to do it with an ocean long board. The waves on the Great Lakes are nothing like the ocean. They are best handled by a short board.

The ocean long surfboard lived in the garage at my girlfriend’s house on Cape Cod. It was there for decades. Every time I went to the Cape, I would stop by, trade vehicles, and take my board out for some waves. I did some wind surfing too, depending on which beach I was at on the Cape.

So, what happened to it? Well, I’m pretty sure it’s been gone for over a year now. 

So you’re going to write a story about a missing surfboard? Sounds pretty boring to me. 

Wait! Don’t leave yet. It’s not just the surfboard. There’s a person too and a 20 year love affair. 

Sit back down. Stay with me here.

For this story, we need to start with the end. I know, stories usually start at the beginning. This one starts at the end. We will get to the beginning. The middle is pretty good too (the best, I think). Think of this as a surfer version of Pulp Fiction without guns.

April 2020

The phone rang at almost 3 am. My phone was set on night, so if it was ringing, then that meant it could only be one of two people. Suddenly, I was very awake.

“Are you ok?” I didn’t even say hello. I knew something was wrong.

Lily (*names have been changed to protect those living and dead) choked back a sob. “Mom’s in the hospital.”

It was very early in the COVID-19 pandemic. Lily’s mom, like mine, was in her 60s. With everything having shutdown in March 2020, Lily decided to leave Cape Cod and go to her mom’s house to help out. At the time, everyone was about helping the most vulnerable. Lily figured she could do the grocery shopping and errands for her mom. So she packed up her Prius and went back to Worchester to help her mom. 

At the time of the phone call, Lily had been at her mom’s house less than a week. This was before masks and before we fully realized that COVID is airborne.

I listened to Lily’s sobs and did the best I could to support her by phone. She was able to visit her mom in the hospital once before she passed. They had not yet stopped visitation of hospital patients. 

Her mom was only in the hospital for about 2 days before she died. Her dad died when she was little. So the only family she had left was a brother and his two young children. The four days after Lily’s mom’s death were so rough on her. We talked every day. We facetimed. She was also talking to her brother trying to make arrangements for her mom. Here she had come home to help, only to be too late.

It was about five days after Lily’s mom died that she didn’t feel well either. 

You know, this is hard to write. 

That’s why we are starting at the end of the story. We will get the hard stuff out of the way first so that we can get to the good stuff.

Well, Lily also died of COVID less than 2 weeks after her mom. Her brother called to tell me. I was one of the last people to speak to her. We facetimed while she was in ICU within 24 hours of her death. COVID is a painful way to die.

I just lost my best friend.

Lily was cremated. In August, her brother held a scattering of ashes ceremony. I “participated” by phone. This was August 2020. Her brother ended up having to take care of everything both for their mom and for Lily.

Lily’s house was sold. So, I’m pretty sure my surfboard was sold too. I’m not sure. I didn’t think about the surfboard until this year. I’m not going to ask. Without Lily there on the Cape, it’s inconsequential.

It’s the memories attached to that surfboard that need to keep living. 

I only thought about the surfboard this year because Lily’s brother kept in touch with me. He had two small children under age 10. He had a girl and a boy, ages 6 and 8. They both died of COVID this year. 

So, the ending is the hardest part. It’s not pretty and it’s not fun. 

You know what they say about the dates on a tombstone? The birth and death dates? It’s that dash in the middle that is the important part. It’s the life you lived in the middle of your birth and your death. 

Now that the hard part is over, part 2 will look at the beginning of the story. Or maybe the middle? That’s where the good stuff lies. When you just ride the waves. There is a love story in that dash. 

To be continued … 

Medals 19 and 20

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Medals 19 and 20 have been earned! The 2021 running season was one of my best in nearly a decade. For the first time in my running career, I ran two half marathons in one month. While I have completed two half and/or full marathons in a year before, I have never done two in one month. My races have always been spaced several months apart.

This year, both races were virtual and I ran them roughly 6 days apart. I completed both races at the very beginning of November due to concerns about weather and some other things that were going on in life. 

My first race this year was supporting one of my favorite charities for homeless humans, Back on My Feet. Back on My Feet has chapters in several large American cities. I know of their program in Philadelphia.

My second race was the virtual Philadelphia Half Marathon, While I have officially completed the race, I am still waiting for my medal. They were supposedly sent out at the end of October.

The Philly Half was done in support of homeless animals. If you remember from my prior post about the 2021 running season, you could donate to the Humane Society in Honor of Jude, the ASPCA in Honor of Jolene or a small non-profit animal shelter in Honor of Simon.

I am especially antsy about my Philly medal not being here due to it’s meaning. 

In 2007, Philadelphia was my first half marathon. In 2008, Philadelphia was my furst full marathon. In 2021, Philadelphia was my 20th medal. Out of the 20 medals I have earned, 5 are from Philly. 

You just never forget your first.

So, I am anxiously awaiting receipt of medal 20. I will feel much better once it arrives. I have plans for the special medal as far as photos and display. 

This also brings me that much closer to my goal. Once I achieve 26 medals, I plan to “retire” from the professional race circuit. I will still run. I just won’t be as competitive or as adamant about earning medals.

I have already chosen my race for the 2022 running season. It is one that has been on my race bucket list for quite a few years now. 

The miles are in and complete. Medal 20 has been earned. Now I am just waiting for it to arrive. 

Desert Island

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Imagine you are stranded on a desert island … we have all played this game in some form or another. It’s a great icebreaker and a way to pass time in the car on long car trips long before the invention of the internet and modern electronic devices.

Imagine you are stranded on a desert island and only had 5 books to read – what would they be?

Imagine you are stranded on a desert island and only had 5 albums to listen to, 5 movies to watch, 5 things to pack in your bag …

As the world is still in the throes of a global pandemic, we are living the ultimate desert island scenario. We are facing global supply shortages that are not only exaccerbating the relentless food shortages of the past 20 months, but also creating new supply shortages. 

With a deadly airborne virus that shows no signs of letting up any time soon, our houses are a desert island. Gone are the days when you could replace something in under 20 minutes. 

Enter minimalism. Do you have everything in your house / desert island that you absolutely love? Do you have too many things? Do you have things you don’t love? Our houses are the desert islands now. If you don’t need it or love it, get rid of it.

All those things you hang onto “just in case” – the emergency is here. Living in a global pandemic is an emergency. If you are not using it right now, you won’t ever need it. There is no need to continue to hold onto those just in case items.

Who is going to clean out your house when you die? It’s not a pleasant thought, but we are all going to die sometime. The pandemic has just accelerated that process. Have you ever had to clean out someone’s belongings when they die? It’s not a pleasant process. It’s tedious and emotionally exhausting.

Why not make it easier on whomever has to clean out your things when you die? Live with less things.

A global pandemic is the perfect time to downsize our homes and lifestyles so that we are surrounded only by what we love. Life is short – do what you love. Why spend extra time cleaning?

Once I complete my half marathon this fall, I will be approaching minimalism with a renewed vigor. I don’t want to have a bunch of junk for someone to have to throw out once I’m dead. I’m going to attack my belongings with ruthlessness now. 

My house is my desert island. I only want what is useful and what I love. If I’m not using something right now, it is going to leave. The emergency is now. We are living it.

I have no regrets over anything I have gotten rid of during my minimalism journey. I have not missed anything I have donated or gotten rid of. In fact, I don’t even remember the items that are gone.

One of the most challenging areas for me regarding minimalism are my CDs. I love music and I love CDs. However, my CD collection is overflowing the space currently available for it. I will be going through and listening to CDs this winter and hopefully only keeping those I truly love.

I remember a few years ago, I tried to purge CDs. It was the hardest aspect of minimalism for me. If I remember correctly, I got rid of / donated about a shoebox full of CDs. I don’t remember which CDs are gone. Must be those CDs were not favorites. My goal this winter is to be able to weed out another shoebox full of CDs. 

My house is my desert island and I only want to have what I absolutely love.

Have you ever applied the desert island scenario to your home in your minimalist journey?

My Quarantine Life: Week 84

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You should be willing to die for your country. You deserve to die. People like you don’t deserve to live.

Sounds mean, doesn’t it? I live in America, and not only are these comments completely acceptable to say to people like me right now, they are celebrated and encouraged. 

I am not in the military. I am not willing to die for my country. I have spent the past 84 weeks trying to survive a global pandemic because I don’t want to die at all. I have 3 cats that depend on me.

To be honest, with what people have been saying to me the past two months, I am depressed. I have to stay alive for my cats and I am absolutely terrified of what would happen to them if something happens to me. However, with the mean things people are saying, I feel like the entire country wants people like me to die. It’s not just a feeling – it’s being said. It’s all over social media and it’s all over the news that the unvaccinated deserve to die.

My Quarantine Life: week 84 – I am still in isolation. When I say isolation, I mean isolation. I am still not allowed to go to the grocery store or pharmacy. I am not supposed to be indoors with other humans unless for healthcare or emergency house maintenance. All our vet appointments are curbside. Groceries are curbside or delivery. The grocery workers put food in my trunk while I sit in the car double masked. I am supposed to be double masked every single time I leave my house. The pharmacy fills all my meds through the drive-thru. I see a person through the window and the medication comes through a chute. Even though the pharmacy person is behind glass, I am double masked there too.

I work from home. I am 100% a remote worker. I very specifically looked for and applied for remote jobs only when Iost my job last spring. I know I am in doctor mandated quarantine. I know what the risks are if I go someplace against medical advice. No job is worth risking your life.

I am medically unable to be vaccinated. People say to me that this is wrong. “Follow the science, but the doctors are wrong.” Ok, so I’m supposed to follow the science. Yet when multiple doctors say your medical conditions make you ineligible to be vaccinated, I’m not supposed to believe them? I’m supposed to be vaccinated against medical advice? How is that “following the science?” Follow the science unless doctors say you cannot be vaccinated in violation of a federal mandate. In that case, the doctors are lying. Follow the science but don’t listen to the doctors – all in the same breath. It sounds very political to me. 

Our local hospital statistics this month show that of the 77 people who died of COVID this month, 75 of them were “fully vaccinated.” Two people were unvaccinated. The federal government says that this is a pandemic of the unvaccinated and we need to protect the vaccinated from the unvaccinated. We are supposed to follow the science. Does this mean my local hospital is lying? Is my local hospital spreading fake news? Are we not supposed to believe the statistics they are publishing? Follow the science, but don’t believe the doctors. Got it. Makes sense. 

So I am lumped in with the unvaccinated, or the great unwashed in this country. We are hated, despised, demonized. It doesn’t matter why you aren’t vaccinated. A medical exemption is no excuse. You should be willing to die for your country (again, someone has actually said this to me).

Ever have an allergic reaction to a vaccine? I have. I have had allergic reactions to two different vaccines. You think you just use an epi-pen and it’s no big deal, right? 

Have you ever been on a ventilator? My allergic reactions have been so severe, I spent 5 months in ICU on a ventilator the last time I reacted to a vaccine. Unless you personally have been on a ventilator, in your life, you have no right to say that an allergic reaction to a vaccine is no big deal.

That’s just my reaction to one shot. It takes two (or more) shots to be considered full vaccinated against COVID. So that means if I can survive being on a ventilator without dying, I would have to get a second shot, which would probably be the one to kill me since allergic reactions get progressively worse the more of them you have.

Yet, I should just “buck up” and get in line for my vaccine? I called for a vaccine appointment. I was turned away because there are no ventilators available right now. All the ventilators are in use by COVID patients.

People have told me that having an allergic reaction to the COVID vaccine is better than getting COVID. Ok, so I have an allergic reaction. At best, I spend several months on a ventilator. At worst, I die. So, you’re telling me, that’s better than COVID? Our ICU is overfull with COVID patients on ventilators to the point we are transferring people to a neghboring state. 

Again, if you are a person who has ever been on a ventilator in your life, please feel free to chime in here and explain to me how having an allergic reaction and being on a ventilator is better than having COVID and being on a ventilator.

Again, only people who have ever been on a ventilator can chime in here. I’ll wait. 

I am in medical isolation. I am not indoors with other humans. I have no opportunities to catch or spread COVID. Can someone please explain to me how, as an unvaccinated person, I am a threat to vaccinated people? I only come into contact with other people outdoors and double masked. 

Again, I’ll wait. Explain to me how me as an unvaccinated person is a threat to a vaccinated person?

At my last doctor appointment, they re-iterated the fact that I need to continue my isolation. The doctor told me that vaccination status doesn’t matter because fully vaccinated people can still catch the virus. Fully vaccinated people can still spread the virus. Is the doctor lying? Follow the science, but don’t believe the doctors, right?

In fact, the doctor told me that fully vaccinated people are actually more dangerous to me right now that the unvaccinated. Fully vaccinated people are going around to places like the pandemic does not exist and they are not wearing masks. Unvaccinated “vulnerable” people like me are still in isolation and are double masked when we do have to interact.

The President says we have to protect the vaccinated from the unvaccinated. This is the exact opposite of what my doctor says. So I’m not supposed to belive the doctor? People say “well, you need a new doctor.” So I need a new doctor because you do not like what the doctor is saying? Follow the science, but don’t believe the doctors.

This pandemic is getting way too political for me.

Again, all I am trying to do is outlive my cats. I am still in isolation. The only time I have indoor interactions are for medical and I am double masked. In fact, the only times this entire pandemic I have had any COVID exposures came from medical appointments.

Both times I have been exposed to COVID were because a fully vaccinated medical professional tested positive for COVID. 

The definition of vaccine is something that prevents you from getting a disease and prevents you from spreading a disease. Have we changed the definition of vaccine these past few months? Can someone please show me the updated definition for vaccine from a reputable dictionary source?

Anyways, I have been nothing but attacked, ridiculed and threatened over the past two months due to my medically unable to be vaccinated status. I’m depressed. I’m also afraid to die. I don’t want to be on a ventilator due to a vaccine reaction.

The reason why it has gotten so bad is because Biden has decided to wage war on the unvaccinated. It doesn’t matter why you are unvaccinated. It just matters that you aren’t. In fact, unvaccinated Americans are about to be fired. Companies can be fined $14,000 per unvaccinated employee. We are all about to be unemployed. So if you don’t volunteer to die for your country, we will just starve you to death instead because you won’t be able to work. 

I never thought I would see discrimination like this in America over something like health status. I’m sure if we took out the word “unvaccinated” and replaced it with “race, sex, gender” or something else, there would be an uproar. Instead, people are saying that people like me who are medically unable to be vaccinated deserve to die. 

I’m not sure how we got here, but this is why I have been quiet the past two months. I feel like everyone around me wants me to die (because they are saying it). Not only are they saying it, but this hate speech is coming from our President who is encouraging discrimination and hate against the unvaccinated, no matter the reason. 

Ever think I would get vaccinated if I didn’t have the risk of an allergic reaction? I am NOT willing to risk my life for my country.

I’m sure this post will probably get me reported or banned or something, since anyone unvaccinated is immediately silenced. I am not saying people should not get vaccinated. By all means, please DO get vaccinated if you are able. 

However, there are people in this country who are medically unable to be vaccinated and we are being persecuted. I’m sorry, but all this hate is really hard on me. I just don’t see how I’m a threat or what I did to deserve this. I don’t want to die, even though millions of other Americans are saying I deserve to die. I’m sorry, but I am just struggling right now with the prospect of losing my job and with all the people who think we deserve to die. I’m not sure how we went from “protect the vulnerable” to “you deserve to die” so quickly.

My Second Favorite Holiday

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Birthdays are my favorite holiday. Every time I get one, it’s like a giant middle finger to the world that I was able to survive another year of whatever life threw at me. Birthdays are a celebration of life. You only stop having birthdays when you are dead, and that’s a problem.

Many people like Christmas. I like Christmas too, but it’s not my favorite holiday. I like the peaceful feeling of Christmas. Christmas is something we should try to replicate year round. We should aim to be kind and generous to others. While I enjoy Christmas, it is my third favorite holiday.

My second favorite holiday after birthdays is Labor Day and Labor Day weekend.

I spent over 20 years working 2-3 jobs for 40-60 hours per week. We do not have paid sick time in the United States. We do not have paid vacation time in the United States. The only time I would be able to get time off from all of my jobs was holidays.

Labor Day weekend is my favorite because it is a celebration of the worker. We should have the day off. American workers are treated the most poorly of any industrialized country. We can be fired at will, do not have to be offered health insurance, vacation pay, or sick pay. We work long hours for low wages.

The sad part is that for the United States of America, Labor Day is just another day. For many it signals the end of summer and return to school. We have forgotten that Labor Day is about the worker. Workers deserve much, much better than we receive in the United States.

Labor Day weekend has typically been my camping weekend. I like to get away to relax. It’s the only weekend of the year when I truly have a break. For one weekend a year, I can take a vacation and pretend I am just like any worker in any European or other industrialized country.

The saddest part of Labor Day weekend is that although we get the day off, we do not get paid to have the day off. You get the weekend whether you like it or not.

We need to have a revival of the worker’s rights movement in this country. We deserve better wages, shorter hours, healthcare, paid sick time, paid vacation time, and much more. I know that we will never get any of this in my lifetime, but I can dream.

I also dream of moving to a European country that has all those benefits.

Labor Day weekend is my second favorite holiday because it is the only time of year I am truly at peace. When I go camping to a remote area in the Adirondacks, I am typically surround by ducks and other wildlife and not many people. It is the only time I get to slow down and be peaceful. That peacefulness is something I wish I could bottle and have for the entire year.

The past three years or so, Labor Day weekend has not been very restful or peaceful. When I bought my house, my employer at the time only gave me 3 hours off work to complete the closing to purchase the house. I was not allowed to take any time off for moving. Moving was done haphaxardly after work and on Labor Day weekend. 

Now, in the pandemic, I have not been able to travel to go camping for Labor Day weekend. The last time I was able to go camping was October 2019.

This year, we are camping. It will not be the Adirondacks. It will be on our own property. I’m not sure if I will put the tent up inside or outside, but we will camp. We will pretend it is just like any other year in the Adirondacks. The exception will be the obnoxious, threatening neighbors, but hey, we do what we can.

Happy Labor Day weekend. May you find peace. And then after a peaceful weekend, let’s do something to ensure hard working Americans are treated better. We deserve to be treated as humans, at least.