Calm and Safe and Reflective in Everyday Ramblings

Yesterday, this gorgeous vista is within walking distance from my place. We have explored the trails up above here, and further south but this is in between. Mrs. Sherlock had been down here on group bike rides so she knew the zigzag way in to the multi-use path along the west side of the river. It is gorgeous and a nice alternative for solitary walks to the big hill behind me where there is a fair amount of traffic noise.

The walk we were going to do from a book started at this park but instead of driving there and parking we decided to walk from my place and after about an hour, facing a gradual but steady climb, Mrs. Sherlock declared she was tired and so we headed back through wonderful and quiet residential streets. We found a Starbucks and had iced tea and a used clothing boutique with a comfortable bench outside for Frida and me.

We got to talking about trees because I had just started to read The Overstory last year’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel and she had just bought a coffee table book with photos of magnificent trees around the world.

Between the two of us I think we can identify maybe 1/8th of the trees in our world. We are compatible in our ignorance.

On our way back close to home we were standing on a tree lined street that used to be part of my neighborhood looking across at two giant fabulous trees trying to puzzle out what they were.

Honestly neither one of us had a clue. Because this is Mrs. Sherlock, and she will talk to anyone, she called out to the frail looking but spry woman coming out of a beautifully restored older cottage (in a row of four) and asked what kind of trees they were.

We went across to talk to her. The reason we didn’t know what they were besides hubristic ignorance is that they are elms. And almost all the elms in the area have succumbed to Dutch elm disease.

She said that she and her neighbors on the block had banded together and inoculated four of the older trees. They have to do it every year.

Who knew?

Her house was built in 1890. She said they built them in fours. We started counting after that.

Mrs. Sherlock’s home and the one they own next door were built in 1902. Spurred on by the process of probate that the estate of their friend that bought in with them 45 years ago they are beginning to look for a new home.

We talked about the city. And how scary certain aspects of it were becoming. No, not the totally blown out of proportion brawling in the streets between the Proud Boys and the Anti-Fascists that even made international news but the drug and homeless disasters unfolding before our eyes.

The things I talked about in my previous post. They are looking for a house out of the core part of town in a “nicer” more affluent neighborhood. She’ll be 71 this fall and Mr. Sherlock is 80. So many of the people we know are selling up and moving into a few upscale non-profit retirement communities where you buy an apartment and can trade up to assisted living when you need it.

But she wants a garden and a place on the ground floor.

She is looking for a place that maybe she can share as a rental if (and when) Bill dies. I won’t be able to afford one of those non-profit retirement communities so my options are limited but that could be a kind of solution, a group of women in a little say small house community looking out for each other.

For me it needs to be close in to shopping and health care where I can have the cats. Just these two.

It is good to have plans but, just as I am learning about being attached to my plans for retirement, sometimes we don’t have a choice.

Last updated July 14, 2019