Sylvia's Journal

The undercooked mushroom toxins that completely floored us a month ago have long since gone. That part of my body is back in good shape. But hamstrings and abductors and laterals are not. I seem to tear anyone of these easily, small mishaps in everyday life. It’s a pain, and it costs me a fortune every week for body work: chiropractor, massage therapy and physical therapy. Navigating stairs up and down has been painful.

The good news is that our bedroom move from upstairs to downstairs (a significant construction project) is moving along at a good clip. During the week our yard looks like a truck sales lot when the various tradesmen are at work, all masked and with a limited number of people working inside. I am so excited about the new bedroom suite that sometimes I cannot sleep, my brain picturing myself in our new room. We are intensely grateful that we can do this and, hopefully, age in place with comfort and ease.

Aside from mushrooms, muscles and construction, I am using some of the time that is left as a volunteer with EthicalCoach. I recently acquired a new coachee in west Africa and continue to support the organization in other ways as well. It has been a wonderful experience so far. I developed new friendships with some extraordinary people all over the world in the process.

Although there are a few potentially interesting assignments on the horizon, for the moment my income producing coaching practice has dwindled to just a few people; some of my clients have decided that it’s time for them to fly solo, and I agreed; no more need for our calls. I will miss them as I have gotten to know them well and grew fond of them, learning as much from them as they from me.

The word ‘solo’ reminded me of my first solo flight. When my flight teacher told me to drop him off at the traffic control room – I knew what it meant: it was time for my first solo flight. I remember the moment well: I was both scared and excited – scared because being by yourself in a plane without your instructor is just that, scary, but excited because we both knew I could do it. The experience of after my third takeoff and landing was close to ecstasy (I’d done it!), affirming and validating all the learning I had done.

And speaking of learning, I am part of all sorts of learning communities, some of which I wished I had encountered earlier, but no regrets. There too I am connecting with people around the world, having conversations with someone in China, in Senegal, in South Africa, in Lesotho and Angola. Again, I am so grateful that I have a good computer, electricity and a fairly good internet connection, and, as one new friend called it, an ‘enriched’ environment, which means that I am surrounded by people I can trust and call on. Blessed I am indeed.

Some weeks ago (when it was still summer), a few humpback wales showed up at Singing Beach and even gave a full breaching show. We missed it but saw it later on the news. Axel and Sita had detected something that looked like fins in the distance between Lobster Cove and Baker’s Island, but I didn’t think much of it. Waves often look like fins.

Sita had been scouring the horizon for Great White Sharks – they are present up and down the east coast of the US, further south, but there are a few near the Massachusetts coast according to a shark tracking app.  A woman in a wet suit was killed by a Great White, not that far off her home’s pier near Harpswell, in Maine. As the crow flies (and the Great White swims), it’s not that far away from us.

I have tried to convince our daughters that a Great White Shark (some are over 10 ft long) would risk getting beached in Lobster Cove at low tide. But they are cautious and don’t like it when I swim out to the mouth of the cove and back.

I wonder if all these sea creatures are coming close to the shores to check out whether we are still there, what with the havoc created by the novel corona virus (is it still novel I wonder?).

The deer and bunnies are also out in great numbers and eyeing our juice greens. We bought some dome shaped plastic cups on sticks made by the Have-A-Heart company that act as a repellent because, the product information says, they give the animals a whiff of blood from another animal (one of their own maybe?).  It worked for the beans, but not for the lettuce. Peter Rabbit could have told us that.

The summer is racing by as it always does, but this time it feels even more as if this was the summer that wasn’t. Not for the weather, we got two heat waves, but for the absence of events that mark the summer weeks like open air concerts, sport events, parades, celebrations, wedding and other parties, etc.

We can count ourselves lucky to be living in a place that would be a summer vacation destination for many: a house on a cove with its own beach, kayaks, a surf plank, and place to start a summer evening beach fire (with or without s’mores). Instead of going out for dinner, we cook gourmet meals and do not skimp on the wine. In the morning we have breakfast just above or on the beach as we see fit, depending on the tide. And Axel’s dory and lobster traps provide us with the gifts of the ocean (not all the time, but enough to bring the cost of the permit and bait down to something reasonable). Although we worked hard for our (nearly complete) retirement and are plucking the ripe fruits now, we also had an enormous amount of luck that got us to where we are now.