Baby steps

Or, adjusting one’s realities

Today for the first time in three weeks I actually decided to take a path up through the forest instead of staying on the flat. (I sprained the same ankle that had already been subjected to a broken heel and a bad sprain a few years back, which greatly curtailed my hiking capacity up in the mountains in June). I figured that since I had managed the standing concert Friday, it would probably be o.k. as long as I was climbing and not going down: as a precaution I put on the flexible brace. What with picture taking and stopping to admire the scenery it was a whole hour! Feeling pleased with myself.

But that brings us back to the subject: will I ever again take a weeklong backpacking trip in the Sierra’s? Probably not, but I can perhaps work back up to a half-day hike.

And so it is in life, many things become more difficult with age, but other paths open. We may no longer be able to take on as much, but perhaps we do a better job with those tasks we continue. Maybe we can’t dance all night – or even talk a whole night through, but we can take a nap the next day to compensate for those hours after midnight. Perhaps our eyesight grows dim and our hearing iffy, thankfully taste buds usually hold up to their task.

Stopping to smell the roses was never more appropriate: adjusting one's realities to fit the circumstances never more necessary.

WW

WW is an acronym that has most people thinking that there should be a roman numeral behind it, as in WWI or WWII, but I have a new meaning for WW: Wonderful Weekend!

It didn’t start out all that well: the kids were late meeting me, however, as it was due to the little kids (4-8) graduation ceremony – a huge parade along the main tram line through the center of town – they were more than forgiven, especially as I met them at my older son’s address so was able to call and see him briefly as well.

My younger son brought with him his girlfriend and goat’s cheeses that he had just purchased on the local famer’s market: two-days old, five-days old and eight-days old. Needless to say our evening’s meal of salad, fresh cheeses and bread, was sumptuous!

First though we had to get to the chalet: this involved a leisurely drive through France; a lunch stop once back in Switzerland; a couple of hours at Roche - they were visiting a church, I parked the car in the shade and proceeded to catch up on 7 different newspapers; then “needing” an ice cream led to stopping at one of my favorite places: The Grand St-Bernard relay.

Then it was on up the mountains arriving at 19:00 to a major downpour, which lasted the whole ten minutes of unloading (of course).

We never did catch up on our timing and it was 23:00 before we dragged ourselves away from the table and conversation – I going off to the guest bedroom next door (I have a landlady with a golden heart: when she saw us arriving – three – she rushed down to propose that I stay with them leaving the “young couple” on their own – I didn’t hestitate a nano-second before accepting).

Sunday stayed leisurely: the weather was perfect and we had reservations at the Auberge du Vallon de Van www.vallondevan.ch/‎ for a late lunch.   

Our table was the first one on the grass

Flowers given to me by two cute kids - not my own!

The kids hiked there: I took the car as had unfortunately sprained my ankle just two days earlier. Lunch out on the lawn, under an umbrella – light breeze, not a cloud in the sky – was yet again unbelievably good: mixed salad with a gathered-in-the-wild herb pesto, a plate of the Valaisan dried meats, followed by goat cheese fondue for one and our Swiss rösti (hash browns) with a beef/mushroom concoction more than filling.  We did however reserve the local dessert for later that afternoon: blueberry pie with a thin layer of chocolate in between the crust and the fruit.  Naps all around, followed by dessert and coffee. 

Then they hiked back and I again drove.   

We were not hungry that evening.

Much more water than usual due to the very wet and long winter.

So, although A took the train back to Geneva yesterday morning and S travelled on to Sierre to meet a friend and manufacture some more weapons for his job as camp counselor in July, the memory of our wonderful weekend lives on – a treasure to take out when the weather is bad or the conversation lacking.

Out and About

I woke up this morning rested and relaxed: so relaxed that it took me 30 minutes to get up after I awoke! (Note to self: colons and semi colons work just as well as … dots, - hyphens – and parentheses. Question – should I really fight my natural inclination to use the afore-mentioned?).

But I digress: upon awaking, I felt the “need” to take a hike. I was going to label this “First hike of the season”, but – if to some it would have been a hike, to others it would have been a walk in the woods and to yet others – my brother, my sons and all my nephews, it would have been a stroll in the mountains.  So I got out the jacket (our three days of summer have disappeared), the umbrella and my camera and set off on one of my favorite rounds: through the village, along the road into the forest, up to the “hole of the wolf”, up to the next road and back down into the woods again for a circular loop that takes care of about 2/3 of those daily 10’000 steps. Now, for the other 1/3, will pedaling in the air in front of the Roland Garros (Paris Open) men’s final tennis match this afternoon qualify?

                                                                                     

Streams that normally disappear two days after the last snow are still in full spate, moss is growing everywhere (not just on the north side, so don'tcount on it for directions)

and the pines and firs still show their spring-green fingernail polish on the tips.

Return to the chalet – the sun had come out.