Aspen in August

Each year my husband and I spend a week in August tucked into the woods in a campground just above Aspen. I  love it here. How the light shines through the trees as the sun rises in the morning, moments of stillness, the surrounding peaks that mercifully remind me of my relative insignificance, the occasional afternoon thunderstorm  dramatically rolling in and then just as quickly back out. We go during the music festival with formal concerts, opera, dress rehearsals, theater, along with hiking, biking, four wheel forays into the back country and a few carefully curated Aspen dining experiences.  Accommodations  in town are breathtakingly expensive, but with the $15/day Forest Service senior discounted camping fee the cost is quite manageable. 

I feel very privileged to live in Colorado where these kinds of experiences are so easily available.

By: Bonnie Shetler

Mountain Dreaming

                                                                                  

         I love to sits

         And when I do    

         I dreams of soaring 

        'Bove morning dews

        With butterflies and

         Birds of hue

        Remarkable what my 

        Dreams can spew

Submitted by Steve Nelson

By: Kirsten Hartman

Gardening in Containers

 

     A sunflower growing in a container! WOW.  Several years ago, moving into a new home, with no yard, forced me into container growing. From my young years to now, I often lived with or near a yard. Growing plants in a garden, is quite different from container growing. Yes, of course you still need soil, seeds, sun, water and fertilizer. However container gardening also includes, the type of pot, how porous it is, drainage, its location as well as how whatever will "over winter". Some pots are easy to put in garages and basements. Others, due to their size remain outside.  This particular pot did not have any protection in the winter, ie no covers, no protection via a building.  Imagine my surprise when the sunflower "magically" appeared this summer! Yes, container gardening has as many miracles and surprises as yard gardening does!

                                     

 

By: Kirsten Hartman

Notes on Aging

Saw this in the Guardian this morning. Notes about aging. The author is16 years younger than I am but his points were so relatable. Hope this link works.

 https://apple.news/AUxb6nEjhQEG8kq69MFi6Iw

By: Bonnie Shetler

Ode to the Bike

    

   There's nothing like the two wheeled wonder we all seem to have in our garages or on the back porch or chained to the rack. Some await the "straddle" while some the mechanic, and others the kid still under the covers.  We've (in our house) are "lusting" electric and marvel at iteration after iteration that are appearing. All-no matter put our face in the wind, our curiosity at full tilt and bod and soul out the door.

          

 Written by Steve Nelson

  Submitted by Kirsten Hartman 

   

By: Kirsten Hartman

I Like Retirement

   The peace of the morning is drifting through my open back  door.  There are two calls or morning pleas…one from a Bluejay trumpeting to its mates that peanuts have been laid on the back wall to pick through.  I always chuckle…one isn’t enough and it tries to pack two into its beak only to drop it.  The other sound, very mechanized is the siren (sireeeeen) call of a lonesome freight moving untold goods across the vastness of the United States.

Then I “zoom” out…

  On a massive scale earth moves at unbelievable speed around our sun after blocking its light to the moon just last week for us to see a nifty eclipse.  If that isn’t “vast” enough pull up images of what the James Webb Telescope is beginning to see.  My gracious the galaxies and space gases as that telescope peers to the beginning - perhaps 13.7 billion years ago.  What if it captures a telescope peering at us?

 

“Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.”

                                            — Arthur C. Clarke

Written by Steve Nelson

By: Bonnie Shetler

Pride vs Necessity

 Two weeks ago we embarked on a raft trip down the Colorado River through the length of the Grand Canyon. We had been warned by the outfitter that we would need to be in good enough shape to manage the physical challenges of hiking rugged side canyons and the daily loading and unloading of the boat.  For weeks ahead of time I walked up and down country roads, hiked rocky hillsides, and in general felt modestly prepared. Imagine my shock when the first challenge was to figure out how to lift myself into the boat. No footstool, no ladder, no ropes, just squeeze yourself between a pontoon and the boat, put one elbow on each and swing your legs over the prow. Small matter that the tops of these things rose to shoulder height. Upper body strength fell far short of the requirement. 

Until I finally figured another strategy for raising myself over the edge, I was reduced to depending on my husband to push me from the bottom up and over like a very big sack of flour.  He, on the other hand, simply lifted himself up and in as did most of the younger passengers.

This was just the beginning.  No room for pride or dignity on this trip.

By: Bonnie Shetler

Pickleball Anyone?

C-O-L-D! A 30-30-80 kind of day that makes one give pause to opening the door and bracing for it.  Yet here we are in Laramie, Wyoming for a Pickleball tournament.  Thankfully their recreation center is top drawer and fun to compete in or sit around as a spectator, my position (my wife the former).

The tournaments draw people from all over.  The adage: “if you call it - they will come” comes to mind.  In Wyoming these have been held in Pinedale and Cheyenne as well and staged by the Wyoming Senior Olympic committee.  Summer as well as winter.  Pickleball is only one of the many events - there is fat tire bike snow racing, speed skating, downhill and cross country racing.  We’re very impressed at the opportunities for the senior community to stay active with and the camaraderie is as diverse as the games.

The game of Pickleball is such that no matter where a tournament is held it draws people like a bear to honey.  People tall, people short, those in between, in shape, outta shape - the game is magnetic. Think 60% social and 40% competitive.  Retirees, those still working, students  and more all face off across each other and listen to the call “zero-zero-start!” - from the first server.

The game comprises a wiffle ball and a composite paddle somewhat bigger than a ping-pong paddle.  It is usually a four person court game with the net about two inches shorter than found in tennis.  Four Pickleball courts will fit in one tennis court - which means one doesn’t have to run as hard over distance.

The serve is underhand and a two bounce rule is in effect - meaning the served ball must bounce in the proper quadrant on the opposite side  and the return ball must bounce (any where) on the court that had just served. Then volleys or bounces from then on until that play is over.  Seven feet from the net on either side is a non volley zone which keeps a player from standing at the net and smashing.  One may step into the no-volley zone (often referred as the “kitchen” - i.e. stay out of the kitchen) but only if the opponent drops one in to that area.  Then you may step in, hit the ball over and then step back out.

The soft game of Pickleball is called “dinking” and is the strategic attempt to keep the game low and slow until an opponent pops one up too high giving you a “kill” shot.  It’s similar in dancing to the two - step - “slow, slow - quick, quick!!”

Whatta name! That comes from the inventors of the game back in the 1960’s - when a ball would fly off their driveway “court” their dog, Pickles would run after it - “that’s Pickles ball”.

Alas, the tournament over, pushing the door into those 30º by 30 knot winds with 80% humidity - snowing hard - sure makes one wish for the courts in Tucson.

 Written by Steve Nelson

By: Kirsten Hartman

Where Are My Glasses?

 The day has come where I need reading glasses. Like most people I went out and bought a pack of five and then immediately started to strategically place a pair of readers around my house thinking now wherever I go in my house I will have a pair of readers. That seemed like the perfect and logical solution.

About a week later, I am in one area of the house in need of a pair of readers and I find myself looking all over, none of the strategically placed readers were where they had been a week ago. I ran around for about 20 minutes looking everywhere when suddenly, I see a glimpse of myself in the refection of a window and realized I had a pair of readers on top of my head, brother!

I then proceeded to round up the other four pair of readers and once again strategically placed them around the house where I thought was best. Over and over, I found myself hunting them down. I finally decided that it is just easier to purchase a glasses cord Lanyard to place around my neck. I never thought or saw myself as the person who would do such a thing, but here I am.

Written by Lorye McLeod

 

By: Kirsten Hartman

Do I have to shovel again this week? I have gotten used to Colorado's weekly snowstorm in winter, but two in a week, ugh. This year, my 80th, I am finding it more difficult to shovel my walk and driveway. Now it takes two or more times to get it done. Shovel a while; rest; shovel a while; rest …

I have always thought if I can stand up and walk across the room, I can do anything. Well, shoveling is showing me up and offering another reality check that comes with aging. Today, as I was gathering determination to pick up the snow shovel, I looked out and there was my neighbor Mike working away clearing my walk and driveway. Wonderful, caring, helpful neighbors - a new reality. I am grateful. Thank you, Mike.

 

By: Cherrie Thornton

Pick Up Fiasco

 Needing some items from the hardware store, I decided to try "PICK UP" method and avoid interacting with people. I found the items easily online,  and was able to order them.  Soon I received a notification that the order was  ready for pickup. So, off I went with a paper copy of my code to get into my locker as well as the notices on my phone. I found the locker and then proceeded to follow the steps on the screen to enter the pickup locker code. OH NO. The locker did not open...looking around, a worker from the store came to help me.  He tried to re-enter the code to no avail. He notified another worker and suddenly there were 3 people now trying to open the locker. One of those workers directed me to go into the store. While at the counter, the first worker came rushing in and handed me my items.  Now I had interacted closely with at least 4 people in my effort to pick up some items and not see anyone.  Another attempt to be "Covid safe" had failed. Oh well. The good news is that I saved myself the time and effort of wandering around the store looking for things. Hum..I may just try Pick Up again !  

By: Kirsten Hartman

Still Cracking Wise

I knew of Barbara before I actually met her and became friends with her. She was known by many as the woman who wrote the history column in the Coloradoan. Folks loved her column but always commented, “but that hat!” I finally broke down and asked Barbara about “that hat.” Turns out her best childhood friend’s daughter got married at the Avery House and chose a Victorian theme for the wedding. Barbara was the “other mother” to the bride, so she was included in the family wedding party. They all dressed in Victorian garb and Barbara wore the hat. Barbara’s eyes lit up as she told the story, a story of a joyful family gathering and celebration. The wedding was three decades ago and yet the hat decorated the door of her apartment at Brookdale Assisted Living where her days ended.

Submitted by Jane Everham

By: Kirsten Hartman

Knowing Barbara

                

I was always a fan of Barbara Fleming’s history columns in the Coloradoan, looking forward to reading one every week. When I heard she was going to teach a class about historic women in Larimer County, I signed up. 

Usually I read the class expectations ahead of time, but this time I didn’t. I cruised into the first class, planning to sit and listen to a lecture with perhaps some discussion. But no! She had other expectations! We were to do research on a woman chosen from a list provided to the class and then make a presentation. After I recovered from this surprise, I found I enjoyed the experience of research, writing, rewriting and putting together a presentation that hopefully would engage the class. Barbara was encouraging, informative and helpful … of course, how many years did she teach? Not only did I learn a lot, the class was interesting and I had fun.

During 2020, with a lot of time at home, I decide to complete a biography of my great grandmother, also a woman of strength and determination. I thought maybe Barbara might be willing to help me finalize my writing. She agreed to be my editor, and I was so excited. She helped me clarify my thoughts, smooth the flow and all the details I never would have thought of. I never really considered myself a writer, but from this experience maybe I have to give up that notion.

Thank you, Barbara.

Cherrie, Thornton

November, 17, 2021

 

By: Cherrie Thornton

Goodbye

 

My friend, colleague, and mentor died last Friday. While her health was declining, her mind was clear and so determined to continue writing that her sudden death came as a shocking surprise to those who knew her. For the past 5 years she handled the Graceful Aging blog for PAFC. She edited ("lightly edited" as she would say), organized and, solicited contributions while my job was to post them on the website. She was more than generous with her time to keep the blog alive, healthy, and relevant.    

To read more about Barbara, The Coloadoan, the host of  her weekly Fort Collins history column, has published a tribute to her life.  And she has had her own website where her published books and thoughts about writing are highlighted.

Goodbye my very dear friend. I am saddened by your leaving.  I will miss you but I know that through your writing you are now yourself a part of our city's history.  

By: Bonnie Shetler

Masked

 Now that wearing a mask and keeping your distance is more or less voluntary, life has become a little more complicated. My personal preference is to wear one in any enclosed space occupied by many folks I do not know. In some environments that leaves me as the only one in the place wearing a mask. Do I care?  Not really but I do notice. In the before times it was just a natural part of the overall look for us all. Now it announces one’s level of concern about where this evolving virus is taking us. I have to say I appreciate it when the decision is made for me - at the doc’s office, on the bus. I feel more of a kinship with my fellow masked travelers. Not to mention that sense of liberation when I step outside and take the dang thing off.

By: Bonnie Shetler

On Being in My Ninth Decade

So here I am at 85, sufficiently functional and mentally competent, surprised at having lived this long. Assessing my condition, I find that I have lost:

• A degree of mobility and independence

• Dear friends who preceded me in death

• Appetite (and weight)

• Agility (not that I ever had that in abundance, but I could square dance pretty well)

• Energy

• Some short-term memory

And I find that I still have:

• Sufficient energy to get through the days

• The ability to think, reason and write, and enough short-term memory 

• Dear friends who are very good to me, and beloved family

• The resources and assistance to remain in my house with only my cat, Shadow, for company

• My car, and the ability to drive it safely

• As active and involved a life as I can handle

I have books to read, sunsets over the foothills to relish, blue sky most days, adequate food, excellent medical care, my computer to work on (a big improvement over typewriters), a caring church community and an abundance of gratitude for my fortunate circumstances. Being 85, after all, beats the alternative, as my father used to say. How blessed I am. 

Submitted by Barbara Fleming By: Kirsten Hartman

Prairie Grasslands

 

Took a road trip out to the Pawnee Buttes yesterday. Sat and contemplated the vast grasslands. It is easy to imagine herds of buffalo and Native Americans riding through on horseback. The Buttes reflect sunlight in different hues throughout the day. Such a vast, peaceful place.  Our plan is to return to this exact spot with our little camper and be still for a while.

By: Bonnie Shetler

Important Chore

   I always make the bed. It isn’t the first thing I do when I get up. It doesn’t come before washing my face or drinking a couple of cups of coffee, but it is important to me. This chore gives order to my day, and gets me organized. I would be at looser ends if I left the bed unmade.

   Probably there are many people who find making the bed an unnecessary waste of time. Maybe this is one more way our society is divided! Some do, some don’t. For me, it is the chore that symbolizes an orderly life!

Written by Jess Kerchenfeldt

              

By: Kirsten Hartman

In This Together

 

I looked out my window this morning and saw something I had never seen before up here in the foothills where we live.  A long line of female deer were making their way in single file across the snow packed hillside. The deep crunchy snow is pretty hard on those spindly legs and it looks as though each is essentially breaking trail for those that follow.  A good lesson for us all.

By: Bonnie Shetler

Snow Hinderance

    Our recent snow storm was heavy and wet. Between plows and workers, our cul-de-sac was cleared. MOSTLY. One huge pile of snow blocks a path by the garage, making it impossible to get my dog easily to grass.  So the obvious solution I have tried includes walking a different route. My dog doesn’t complain too much about that. For me though, I love to easily get to the park. When I have complained or mentioned this to friends, I hear how minor an issue this is, compared to all of the broken tree limbs, down power lines and missed work others suffered.

The good news is that each day I shovel a bit away and soon I will get it cleared!

By: Kirsten Hartman