It’s not been a very constructive week so far.  You would think that someone often accused of being a “homebody” would delight in hearing news announcements advising people to stay indoors.  However, it has kept me from running outdoors for a couple of days and prevented me from taking the dogs to Starbucks, two traditional aspects of my retirement day.  They were hardly a major sacrifice compared with the flood victims in Houston, those caught in the neighboring fires, and Florida residents, like my son, boarding up their homes in anticipation of Hurricane Irma.  Our minor little setbacks are limited to smoke and ash in the air thanks to area firefighters and volunteers.

The sun was out today and the air quality improved, so I took the time to move from the treadmill of the last couple days to the great outdoors for a ten-mile run in this morning.  Later in the day I was able to get my car washed, taking advantage of a “Buy Three, get one free” package, knowing that I’d be back sooner than later to get the white flakes of ash off my car.  The floating ashes remind me of snow in the air, but tiny chips of wood tend to scratch the surface if you try to wipe them off.  I have memories of my first trip to Portland shortly after the Mount St. Helens eruption back in May of 1980.  Our area does have its share of natural disasters, though different from Hurricanes, but it’s been 27 years now since that calamity.  I just hope the incessant earthquake predictions don’t come true for another two hundred years or more.

In the process of “getting out” I naturally went to McDonald’s for a Diet Coke, and visited my Chiropractor.  Fortunately, all the work he has done on my lower back and sciatica nerve have not taken a step back with the extra mileage I’ve been running.  He’s down to minor adjustments and I’ve seen major improvements, after some skepticism about these types of doctors.  Like any other medical professionals, there are good ones and bad ones, so I’m relieved to have gotten good results.  I’ve spent most of my “homebody” time this week on the Amazon Prime exclusive series, Bosch, based on the novels written by Michael Connelly, featuring Detective Hieronymus “Harry” Bosch.  My dad introduced me to this author in the early 1990’s, and the books were often the subject of conversation between us for many years.  The third anniversary of his death is next month, and the most disturbing aspect was when he lost the motivation to read due to the cruel onset of Altzheimer’s .  I still have to look up its spelling after all these years, so I can only hope that it’s not an indication of a similar destiny for me. (See Post #25).  Bosch gives me fond memories of my dad, and I’m sure he would have enjoyed seeing him come to life through the magic of television.

My dad’s ashes were buried in his home town, and I can’t help but think of death when I see ashes swirling in the wind.  It’s horrible to see the footage of the fires and resulting destruction on television.  However, forest fires are apparently a necessary evil in the evolution of trees.  “Ashes to ashes…dust to dust,” is poetic and Biblical, but not found in the Bible.  The phrase comes from the funeral service in the Book of Common Prayer.  My dad always joked about being, “Older than Dirt,” and the Urban Dictionary defines it as anyone over 60.   That’s me!  I just hope I live to be 93 years old like my dad.  That gives me 27 more years to decide what to do with my ashes.  Maybe put them in an ash hole?  Sorry…..

On a lighter note, we did have an enjoyable Date Night last night.  However, I’m glad that I keep a list of restaurants, because my wife had a reservation at Dame, one of the 1246  restaurants that we’ve already enjoyed.  She would have recognized the place from our dinner a few months ago, and that would have been a complete violation of Date Night.  The rule is to go to a restaurant that we’ve never visited before.  Unfortunately, for Dame we cancelled and went to Fireside instead, officially recorded as #1247 on the growing list.   The evening was enhanced by a visit to nearby Salt and Straw for salted caramel ice cream cones.  Remarkably, we found a parking spot right in front – Thank you parking ferries!  (See yesterday’s Post #245)