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Goshawks of Leave
Sep. 25th, 2025 08:02 pmI finally got around to changing the ecocalendar to the fall quarter, as I should have done at the equinox. It caused me a bit of a pang to fold summer up and store it away for another year. I went for a walk today, and though the weather was beautiful, it felt autumnal. After the recent rain, all the mugginess and the brooding quality has passed away, and the air is cool and refreshing. I saw a pale yellow butterfly on a late golden dandelion, and black and gold striped bumblebees on lavender dahlias, topping off their winter stores of honey and pollen. Hickory leaves and hickory nuts are falling, and the path was spangled with triangular golden aspen leaves. Gold was everywhere, as if King Midas had trailed his fingers along the path.
As I think back on yesterday, I think one of the worst things about staying in some kind of assisted living facility, for me at least, would be the sense of confinement. I've felt suffocated at every one that I've visited. The place where my parents stayed was the best I've encountered. It was on the edge of town, and on a pretty large campus, so there were places to go outside and stroll around in the fresh air. Even the memory care section, where my father ended up, had been designed in such a way that residents could walk around in what seemed like a residential area--kitchen, living room, various nooks and spaces. It went in a circle, to be sure, but it was laid out so that people who were not terribly with it would feel they had taken a walk. And the dining area opened out onto an enclosed patio that was similarly designed. You could walk around a little path through gardens and past a fishpond, or sit in a comfy chair for awhile. The version of me that I am now would feel uncomfortably constrained, even so, but it was tolerable. Most places don't seem to take into account the human need to have somewhere to go, and to be able to get OUT and see the sky and the weather. This is me giving the rant that I occasionally put forth about how bad, wrong, and terrible it is to confine human beings away from the outside. It is a known fact that sick people get well faster if they can have sunshine and fresh air. Locking them away in a stack of concrete cubicles is not the way. I wouldn't be able to tolerate it. Like the bindweed and the honeysuckle in Flanders and Swann's ballad, I'd "pull up my roots and just wither away."
We had the Zoom with Deb and the Prussian that we had deferred so we could go out to lunch yesterday, and then I cooked dinner for a change. It was admittedly basic: cheeseburgers, green beans with a mushroom garnish, salad, baked potatoes. The green beans came from the farm store and were just about perfect. The Sparrowhawk had offered to go get takeout, but it only took me half an hour to put it together, and as I pointed out to him, it's nicer to take it easy while waiting for someone to bring you a lovely plate, than to spend half an hour driving and waiting in the drive-through.
As I think back on yesterday, I think one of the worst things about staying in some kind of assisted living facility, for me at least, would be the sense of confinement. I've felt suffocated at every one that I've visited. The place where my parents stayed was the best I've encountered. It was on the edge of town, and on a pretty large campus, so there were places to go outside and stroll around in the fresh air. Even the memory care section, where my father ended up, had been designed in such a way that residents could walk around in what seemed like a residential area--kitchen, living room, various nooks and spaces. It went in a circle, to be sure, but it was laid out so that people who were not terribly with it would feel they had taken a walk. And the dining area opened out onto an enclosed patio that was similarly designed. You could walk around a little path through gardens and past a fishpond, or sit in a comfy chair for awhile. The version of me that I am now would feel uncomfortably constrained, even so, but it was tolerable. Most places don't seem to take into account the human need to have somewhere to go, and to be able to get OUT and see the sky and the weather. This is me giving the rant that I occasionally put forth about how bad, wrong, and terrible it is to confine human beings away from the outside. It is a known fact that sick people get well faster if they can have sunshine and fresh air. Locking them away in a stack of concrete cubicles is not the way. I wouldn't be able to tolerate it. Like the bindweed and the honeysuckle in Flanders and Swann's ballad, I'd "pull up my roots and just wither away."
We had the Zoom with Deb and the Prussian that we had deferred so we could go out to lunch yesterday, and then I cooked dinner for a change. It was admittedly basic: cheeseburgers, green beans with a mushroom garnish, salad, baked potatoes. The green beans came from the farm store and were just about perfect. The Sparrowhawk had offered to go get takeout, but it only took me half an hour to put it together, and as I pointed out to him, it's nicer to take it easy while waiting for someone to bring you a lovely plate, than to spend half an hour driving and waiting in the drive-through.
