Month: November 2022

This tree was there as Walter-the-dog practiced his “stump” trick.

I taught Walter this trick where he jumps up on a tree stump, during a past visit to Juli and Keith’s house – some years ago. He clearly remembers it.

[daily log: walking, 6.5km;]

This tree was lightly frosted by some morning snow.

Art and I drove to the VA hospital in downtown Portland, this morning, for an annual follow-up with the “poly trauma” team that has been monitoring his progress since the stroke/concussion/broken neck in 2018. The doctor was humorous and pleasant and had excellent communication skills, but I was disappointed with the degree to which the VA was rather unorganized with respect to Arthur’s current needs for some specialized follow-up appointments on various dimensions. Basically, they wanted to make follow-up appointments but were somehow not aware of, or not taking into account, the fact that we were only briefly here in Oregon and live in remote Southeast Alaska… as if we would travel down once a month for doctor visits. That’s not going to work out. So now we are just going to have to wait for a consolidated set of appointments, and travel again later.

The doctor said something funny, though, as we were small-talking about navigating the labyrinthine VA hospital campus: “Actually, this place is mainly just doors.”

[daily log: walking, 5km;]

This tree is in front of the house I grew up in, in Arcata. I took this picture a few days ago.

I went and had dinner at my cousin Jori’s house with her husband. My second cousin (her daughter) and daughter’s family were there visiting from Anchorage. We spent some time looking through some old photographs Jori had found. For example, this is a picture of my grandmother Alice, her mother-in-law (my great grandmother) Isabel, my uncle Allen, my father Phil, my Aunt Janet (in front), and my great grandfather John Way Sr. (sitting). They are in front of the San Marino house.

[daily log: walking, 4km;]

This tree was above a horse.

I saw the horse while walking Walter-the-dog up along the road above Juli and Keith’s house. Later I a saw this deer in their yard.

[daily log: walking, 6km;]

This tree is in front of a high school, which I attended from 1979 to 1983. .

It’s not that much changed, actually. The prison-like facade I remember so fondly is almost entirely unmodified. I took the picture yesterday as I took a walk around Arcata, my hometown, which is something I always do when I visit, given my visits are always short and infrequent. It’s been four years since I was last here, and that visit, too, was only a few hours long: just “passing through.” I also had a long visit with Peggy and Latif, who live in the house that I grew up in.

Apparently the old Trinity Hospital – the building in which I was born, and which closed in the mid 70’s – which languished for years as a physical plant annex for the nearby university, is now undergoing renovation, and will become the new early learning center for the university’s education department.

I am pleased, anyway, that the original building is being preserved and restored rather than simply torn town. The university has been expanding rapidly in recent years. The campus has been promoted by the state system to a “polytechnic” – a kind of “elite” level of state campus intended to be on par with San Luis Obispo and Pomona. This has brought in a huge amount of money, and will, of course, radically change the character of the town, but I don’t believe change is bad. Nevertheless, the “feel” of my hometown is much transformed from the memories of my childhood and adolescence.

That was all yesterday. Today, I had another thanksgiving dinner that couldn’t be beat. Here is a picture of the gathered diners.

That’s the tradition, at Juli and Keith’s house – thanksgiving on Saturday. That’s why I was able to enjoy thanksgiving twice. Double-thanks. The picture above shows Robin and Juli on the left, working on a puzzle (a gift that my mother sent, indirectly). Also seen are Mindy, Kai, Taylor, Keith, Arthur, Hope, and Grace.

Interestingly, Taylor became very engaged in the puzzle, which was apparently uncharacteristic of him. So everyone was drafted to finish the puzzle before any guests could depart. So I guess this completed jaguar puzzle is courtesy Ann and Taylor.

After the great meal was over, and the puzzle was done, and the other guests had left, Juli and Keith and Arthur and I sat in the living room in complete silence for maybe five or ten minutes. It was a strange, but calming feeling. Then Keith spoke up. “I could go to bed now.” That was a perfect end to the day.

[daily log: walking, 3km;]

This tree is in Humboldt County – barely. This sign at the lower right is the Humboldt County boundary – sorry that it’s a bit blurry.

Humboldt County, California, is one of my favorite third-order administrative divisions. It is, after all, where I was born and spent my childhood. But only a geography nerd like me would conceptualize it as a “favorite third-order administrative division.”

There’s an anecdote about this boundary sign, and Arthur’s role in my childhood. Arthur and I were traveling somewhere. I was around 12 or 13 years old I think. We were driving somewhere, a long road-trip in his 64 Ford Falcon that was his main car for several decades. I don’t remember exactly where we were going. It was late at night, and I needed to pee, so as one does when traveling rural highways, we just pulled over and I peed beside the road. It just happened that we’d stopped by the sign at the Humboldt County line. Later, I realized that I’d lost a shoe. It was obvious to both of us that my shoe, which I’d not been wearing, had fallen out when we’d stopped, somehow. So several days or weeks later (I don’t recall exactly), we were headed back home. I’d completely forgotten about the lost shoe. Arthur stopped abruptly and circled around, so we were pointed the same direction as we’d been traveling before. He stopped the car on the gravel by the roadside. “Open your door,” he said. I was puzzled – I really had forgotten about the shoe. I opened the door. “Get your shoe,” he said. Sure enough, sitting on the ground below the door was my shoe. He’d managed to park the car in exactly the same position he had done last time. He truly had a phenomenal spatial memory, “back in the day.”

I drove up from Eureka back to Forest Grove, today. I stopped in Arcata and took a walk around the town, and talked to Peggy and Latif, who are close friends of the family and who live in the house that I grew up in. Many things changed… many things the same. It’s good to revisit old places.

[daily log: walking, 5km; driving, alot more]

This tree is in front of the Quaker meetinghouse (church) in Pasadena, where my dad works but also that my grandparents were members of when he was born (1939). I attended meeting (Quaker church service) this morning.

[daily log: walking, 8km;]

This tree is inside a dog-park in downtown Palm Springs. My stepmother, Wendy, lives in Palm Springs these days, and she has a dog, which she takes to the dog park. “This is my main social group,” she explained. Not meaning the dogs, though – referring to the other people she meets at the dog-park.

[daily log: walking, 3km;]

This tree is in the courtyard of a hospital in Rosemead, California, where a certain Doctor Carlos Figueroa quite literally saved my life 24 years ago this month. I’ve tried a few times to find him to thank him for this, but I’ve never been able to. He ended his practice and disappeared.

[daily log: walking, 5km;]

This tree is in front of a building in Burbank where I worked for 6 years. That’s the longest I’ve worked in a single location in my life. I worked for Karma Academy in Korea for longer, but the school moved twice while I worked there, so it wasn’t a single location.

[daily log: walking, 6km;]